It's All Decided For Us
by Violet to Blue
Summary: Joe is confronted with a painful decision he had to make a long time ago. In the course of events he gets caught between the battle lines of a mob war. Will Levon be able to find him in time? Warning: a bit of everything - some strong language, violence, drugs and some sex, but none too explicit
1. Chapter 1

**Houston Knights** is an American crime drama set in Houston, Texas. The show ran on CBS from 1987 to 1988 and had 31 episodes. The core of the show was the partnership between two very different cops from two different cultures. Chicago cop Joey LaFiamma is transferred to the Houston Police Department after he kills a mobster from a powerful Mafia family and a contract is put out on him. In Houston he is partnered with Levon Lundy, the grandson of a Texas Ranger. Although as different as night and day, and after a rocky beginning, the two cops form a successful partnership and become friends. During the series, it is revealed that both LaFiamma and Lundy have their own personal demons. LaFiamma comes from a Mob family himself and his Chicago police partner was killed when he went ahead while LaFiamma waited for backup to arrive. Lundy´s wife was killed by a car bomb that was intended to kill him.

Standard Disclaimer: Houston Knights belongs to Jay Bernstein and Michael Butler and Columbia Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended. This is fan fiction, written out of love for the shows. I am making no money off this. I have no money so please don't sue me. Any original characters who may appear in these stories are the property of the author.

Houston Knights Fanfiction

 **By Violet to Blue**

Summery:

Joe is confronted with a painful decision he had to make a long time ago. In the course of events he gets caught between the battle lines of a mob war. Will Levon be able to find him in time?

The story also refers to the character of the TV series _High Mountain Rangers_ , but not enough to make it a real crossover story. For this TV show also the standard disclaimer applies.

Warning: a bit of everything - some strong language, violence, drugs and some sex, but none too explicit Rating T Romance/Drama

 **It´s All Decided For Us**

 _Our dreams were young and we were sure we´d always have each other  
but life just turned out differently, no time or place for lovers.  
We thought the world was in our hands, to take and then to give  
But others had made plans for us which we just could not live._

 _Then destiny drew us apart  
to go our separate ways.  
It left us empty in our heart  
to pass the endless days._

 _If we´re not granted to be joined for just one single touch  
the only thing we ever ask would really not be much.  
Our petty lives shall fin´ly end no matter how they passed  
to find us in each other´s arms beyond this world at last. _

**Chapter 1**

„Tonio, will you marry me when we´re old enough?" The girl with the unruly dark curls cuddled up to the boy. The teenagers faced each other and continued to exchange tender kisses.

"Sure, Jules, how often do I have to tell you?" Tonio had just tuned sixteen and his attempt to keep his slightly too long dark hair from falling over his left eye was futile. He pulled Jules closer and deeply inhaled her flowery scent. Then he started to untie her blouse.

"Tonio, don´t. You promised we´d wait ´til after we´re married."

The boy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, you don´t have to tell your mama or the priest. And if you´ve been with no one but me, then it will be ok that you´re not a virgin anymore." His face lit up with a mischievous smile as he continued to unbutton her blouse.

"Who else should I be with? You know that you´re the only one I will ever love." She smacked his hand in mock severity but then recaptured his mouth for another passionate kiss. When they parted for air she tenderly stroked his face and asked for the umpteenth time since they had consciously taken in the other´s existence: "Tell me when you fell in love with me, Tonio." On her face was a sweet smile he just could not resist.

"I fell in love with you when you pushed me into the mud in kindergarten. I love strong women." They both laughed and resumed kissing. Then he took a thievish pleasure in tickling her all over.

It took a few minutes for her to get over her laughing fit. "That´s when I fell for you too. You were so cute, with the mud all over you." She continued to giggle. He buried his face in her neck, imitating a vampire nibbling at her throat.

"I wanted to marry you there and then. Angelina was so jealous." She squirmed, laughing, trying to get away.

From downstairs a loud voice echoed up the staircase. "Bambini, won´t you come down? Dinner´s ready! Nonna Gracia will be angry if you keep her waiting." The woman´s voice held some authority but the teenagers knew she would never come up to check on them.

The youngsters had known each other since they had almost simultaneously been born into the large Italian community. Though they were members of different families they had been raised like siblings. They knew each other inside out. And they had loved each for almost as long as they could both remember.

The teens exchanged glances, burst out laughing again and quickly intertwined for one last wet kiss.

XIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXXIXIXIXIXIX

"So what are the plans for your holiday, LaFiamma?" Levon Lundy had casually placed his feet on his desk beside his hat and was leaning back in his chair to get more comfortable.

His partner Joseph Antony LaFiamma stared into his coffee mug and shrugged. He didn´t care to admit that he had no plans. There was nowhere he wanted to go but back to his hometown Chicago to see his family. But that was the one destination he couldn´t go without getting himself killed by the mob. Even after more than a year in Houston chances for the hit on him to be off were zero. What had been meant as a preliminary arrangement had turned out to become a long term solution by now.

"I guess I´ll just sleep in for a few days. You´re not going anywhere yourself, are you?"

"Nah, got too much work at the ranch, roof of the barn is leakin´ pretty bad, I really need to do something about it, double quick."

Joe was almost tempted to ask if he could help with the repair job when the door to the corridor flew open and their superior, Lieutenant Joanne Beaumont, rushed into the bullpen.

"Lundy, LaFiamma, in my office, now!" She kept her face neutral when she saw the heads of each and every detective of the Major Crime Unit turn towards her in surprise. Levon, who sat with his back to the door, started up and almost lost his balance. Joe took obvious pleasure in the near accident and smirked, causing Levon to glare back at him as he got to his feet.

Normally the two detectives didn´t expect anything good when their boss addressed them in her typical commanding tone. Slowly they followed her into her office. Levon reluctantly closed the door. He didn´t want their colleagues to hear whatever they had coming their way. Joe´s features showed that he, too, wasn´t expecting much good.

But they were both wrong.

As Joanne slumped down in her chair her face lit up with just a hint of a smile. Her eyes benevolently observed the negative stance of her best team. So her little performance had worked, she concluded.

Seeing her features soften both men frowned, slightly irritated.

She decided to lead them on a bit longer. "Anything I should know?" Perhaps the two partners had a bad conscience on account of something she wasn´t aware of.

"Well. Lieutenant, I don´t know what your aiming at but there´s really no reason to be angry." Joe tried his best not to sound too defensive.

Levon, who had been partnered with Joanne a few years back, knew her better. He recognized the signs and he smiled back at her. "Stop it LaFiamma, don´t confess to anything pre-emptively, this is not what it looks like."

When Joe still sheepishly looked from one to the other Joanne thought it was time to ease the tension.

"I am pleased to be the bearer of good news today. I´ve been to the Chief´s office and he explicitly asked me to deliver his congratulations on how you handled your last case. He was very pleased that he could give the press the good news." She paused and took in the broad smile that had spread across Joe´s and Levon´s face alike. "And I am personally very proud of both of you."

Levon was feeling a bit awkward, and he looked down at the tip of his cowboy boots. Joe just looked smug.

"How long will you be working on the reports for the case?" she asked, her gaze wandering over to the calendar on the wall.

"Oh, I guess even Levon´s extraordinary typing skills will not keep us from finishing it by tomorrow." Joe, as usual, could not resist commenting on Levon´s lousy typing speed. The Texan shot him a furious look.

"Ok, then you better get back to your desks. If you are through with this by tomorrow you can take Friday off. And next week you´ll both be on vacation anyway, right?"

"Thanks, Lieutenant," the partners uttered in unison and turned to the door.

"Oh, Joe, I almost forgot…" Joanne reached for an envelope on her desk.

Joe tuned back to face her as she handed him the manila envelope. "This was delivered for you, I think it´s from the Chicago Police Department."

He looked stunned. "Thanks."

On his way back to his desk Joe slid the envelope into his jacket. Levon eyed him suspiciously when he sat down. "What did she want, LaFiamma?"

"Get off my back Lundy, you heard what she said, start typing if you ever wanna get a chance to repair that barn of yours."

XIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXXIXIXIXIXIX

Quietly the partners resumed working. The prospect of an extra day off work had boosted Levon´s energy and his fingers seemed to fly over the keyboard of the electric typewriter. He was determined to prove to that Italian partner of his, once and for all, that he could handle the paperwork just as quickly and efficiently.

As Levon surreptitiously eyed the ex-Chicago cop on the opposite side of the desk he realized that Joe was not working at all. He seemed deep in thought, maybe diverted by whatever Joanne had said or given to him.

By noon it was obvious that Joe hadn´t even finished half of his report. Instead he had been nervously biting his lower lip, a sure sign that something was bothering him. Levon decided to put his partner through a proper grilling at lunch at their usual hangout, Chicken´s barbeque restaurant.

He got up and donned his hat. "You´re joining me for lunch at Chicken´s?"

Joe started up, looking sheepish. "Yeah, sure. Go ahead, I´ll catch up with you." Since he had his own means of transportation, the deep blue Cobra that Levon mockingly referred to as _the batmobile_ , Joe liked to take a quick ride around Houston´s highways before dropping in at Chicken´s for lunch whenever the opportunity presented itself. So Levon thought nothing of it and set out in eager anticipation of a treat to his favorite food.

He had already started burrowing into his pile of ribs and was wondering why his partner still hadn´t shown up, when Chicken answered a call on his phone. The black man in baseball cap and apron turned toward Levon.

"That was your partner, Levon, said he can´t make it. You´re not to worry." When he saw Levon frown he added: "Any trouble brewing?"

Levon wiped his mouth, for once using the napkin rather than the back of his hand. "I can´t read that boy, Chicken, whenever I think I understand him he turns around and acts weird." He rolled his eyes.

"Well, whadda yah expect, Levon? He´s a Yankee," Chicken confirmed with a broad grin.

XIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXXIXIXIXIXIX

Joe had never intended to go to Chicken´s. The moment Joanne had handed him the envelope he had known he needed to read whatever was in it in total privacy, no prying eyes of nosey partners or colleagues, no need to hold back his emotions for the sake of keeping up his macho image. And most importantly, he could not wait until the end of his shift.

So he headed for a service station to gas up and while the attendant took care of his car he used the public phone. Chicken confirmed that Lundy was there as expected and promised to relay the message. Then he picked up a chocolate bar as a surrogate lunch, paid, and resumed his journey on the highway. He headed straight for the desert. Somehow his mind longed for peace and solitude in a prosy surrounding, nothing should disturb or divert his attention.

A few miles down the highway he took an exit, turned onto the adjacent dirt road and headed for the mesa. He had no concept of time but at last the surrounding suited his purpose and he brought the Cobra to a halt.

He regretted that he had not bought a bottle of water. It was hotter than he had expected. He shed his jacket and took out the envelope. It was addressed to Sergeant Joseph A. LaFiamma, HPD. He ripped it open and pulled out another, smaller envelope. Again his name jumped out at him, this time written in a neat hand: Joey LaFiamma. He lifted the envelope to his nose and knew at once who the sender of the letter was. He would recognize that scent among a million others.

His hands trembled slightly as he unfolded the piece of paper. He recognized the hand at once, it was the one he had expected.

" _Carissimo Tonio  
I know you probably thought you´d never hear from me again. But the turn recent events have taken force me to write to you. I see no other way.  
Perhaps you have heard that my mother died last year. Until then my father left me alone. And Mama always kept him at bay. But now that she is gone he has made up his mind to marry me off to a man I hate. I know I have no choice, I will have to obey. Please do not think that any of this is your fault. It is not. I don´t blame you for leaving me even though you promised to marry me. I know now you could not. _

_Still I have to ask one last favor of you."_

Joe´s gaze grew hazy as long suppressed emotions surfaced. For an instant he lowered the sheet of paper and drew a deep breath before he was able to continue reading.

" _Elena is also getting married this month and her daddy has arranged for her and all her bridesmaids to go to Las Vegas for her bachelorette party. She made me one of them, probably out of pity. I guess I am by far the oldest maid in the whole Italian community of Chicago._

 _Please come to meet me there. I know you can´t come to Chicago and if I come to wherever you are living right now they will find you and kill you. I need you, I need you to be with me just this one time. For me this is a matter of life or death. If you are not willing to grant that wish I can understand it. Perhaps there is someone else in your life now. But I hope that you will be able to come._

 _Tonio, you know you are the love of my life. Please help me._

 _You are forever in my heart_

 _Giulietta"_

By the time Joe had reached the end of the page and turned it over to the details of a possible meeting he felt tears stinging in his eyes. His hands were shaking and the emotions seemed to have put a tight steel band around his heart. For a long time he just sat there, his mind going back to his youth in Chicago, to the time when the future had still been bright, full of hope and plans. He had so successfully pushed it all aside that he was surprised at the force with which it hit him now.

He didn´t realize he should leave until the sun caused his head to pound with a dull pain. He folded the letter and when he slipped it into his jacket pocket his fingers encountered something soft and sticky. Disgustedly he withdrew his hand, looking down at it.

"Shit." His lunch, the chocolate bar, had melted in the midday heat and had turned the inside of his jacket pocket into a dark brown sticky mess. Only good thing was that he did not at all feel hungry any more.

XIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXXIXIXIXIXIX

Their lunch hour had long passed but Joe had not turned up again. With a frown Levon looked at the empty chair at the opposite side of the desk. He was beginning to worry.

Joanne had passed by their desk several times, her gaze questioningly halting on the empty chair. Levon had shrugged, indicating ignorance. So far she had not commented.

Another hour had gone by when she emerged from her office. "Joe called. He ran out of gas on the Mesa and it took over two hours until someone passed by and picked him up."

"When is he coming back in?" Levon was in the last throes of finishing his report, he had been eagerly typing away at it all afternoon.

"He´s not coming in again today. He said while he had to wait he got too much sun. So he went home to lie down." Joanne looked a bit unsure when she added. "Sounds a bit like a mild sunstroke to me. I hope it´s not going to keep him down tomorrow, I really need that report from both of you. Otherwise I will not be able to let you go on holiday."

"I´ve done my part." Levon ripped the paper out of the type writer. "Damn Yankee. Wonder who´s laughing now about wearing a hat. He never minds the sun, always thinks he´s immune to it."

"Are you gonna check on him on your way home?" Joanne seemed concerned.

"I don´t think the boy will appreciate it," Levon uttered with a shake of his head.

XIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXXIXIXIXIXIX

He went nonetheless.

Levon found Joe´s car parked in front of the apartment building, covered with the fine red dust of the Mesa. The question was why Joe had gone there in the middle of a working day. It probably had something to do with the mysterious envelope Joanne had given him.

Levon took two stairs at a time and banged his fist on Joe´s apartment door, then halted to listen.

When he got no reaction he tried again, this time adding a loud call to identify himself. "LaFiamma, yah alright? Open up, will yah?"

It took a while before he heard footsteps on the other side of the door. "Lundy, will you stop hollering? What do you want, for God´s sake?"

"See if you´re ok."

"Cut it, I don´t need you to mother me, yah hear?"

"Well, let me in then."

"No way."

"Well, then I have to tell the Lieutenant that you´re feigning it."

With a furious "Madre mia…" that trailed off into a number of unintelligible Italian curses the door opened. Levon only caught a glimpse at the back of his partner who had already turned around and headed over to the couch, slumping down on it. Joe was in sweats and as he laid his head on the backrest he moaned, pressing a wet cloth against his forehead.

Levon towered over him. "What have you done to yourself this time?"

The hand with the cloth dropped and the face that emerged was strangely pale under the ferocious sunburn on nose and cheeks. The contrast was heightened by the fiercely red eyes. "Nothing, I just have a headache, Lundy. Stop making a fuss."

Levon knew his partner was lying. There was more to this than just the overlong exposure to the sun. But Levon also knew he wouldn´t get anything out of the younger man. Clamming up was one of his partner´s traits that Levon really hated. It made dealing with Joe downright annoying at times.

When Joe reclined on the couch again with eyes closed, Levon took the opportunity to scan the room. First thing he noticed was the manila envelope on the coffee table, looked like the one Joanne had given to Joe. Levon recognized the words _Chicago Tribune_ and what looked like a telephone number scribbled across it in Joe´s hand. Next to it lay a smaller envelope, ripped open and a handwritten letter beside it. The writing was small, neat and presumably female. Levon bent down, trying to read it.

Joe must have sensed it. He came bolt upright and quickly snatched the paper away, folded it and slipped it in the pocket of his sweat pants. His features showed a mixture of pain at the sudden move and fury as he glared up at Levon.

"Stop spying on me, Lundy. You´ve run your check for the Lieutenant. So get lost now, double quick, will yah?"

Levon shrugged. He knew Joe was right, he was entitled to his privacy. "Ok, see yah tomorrow then." He opened the door and stepped out.

"…afraid so…" were the last words Levon heard as he pulled the door shut.

XIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXXIXIXIXIXIX

"Nonna* Maria, can I ask you something?" The ten year old boy approached the old woman shyly. *grandmother

She beckoned him to her. "Of course, Giuseppe, you can ask anything. Come, sit here beside me."

"Nonna Maria, how do I know if a girl is the right one for me? To marry I mean?"

"So you want to get married, young man?" She brushed the unruly bangs from the boy´s forehead.

"No, not yet. But I think I have found the right girl and I want to know if I should marry her," the boy answered earnestly.

Nonna Maria smiled. This grandson of hers was always very serious, always had been. Thank God, he could at times be just as much of a rascal as all the other boys. But this earnestness was unusual for a child at his age.

"Who is the girl, Giuseppe?"

"Nonna, that´s a secret." His blue eyes were large, and she always wondered why of all the children he was the only one who did not have brown eyes.

"Well, if it´s Giulietta, then I don´t think it is really a secret."

"But how did you find out, Nonna?"

"Well, haven´t you been friends for a long time now? Or is there another girl?"

"No, no, of course not." The boy protested indignantly. "But how can I find out if she´s the right one for me?"

"Well, you will feel it, if it feels right to be with her, then she is the right girl for you."

"Good," the boy said, then he thought for a moment. Nonna Maria knew that he hadn´t finished yet.

"And we will always be happy, right?" The boy´s face lit up with a big smile.

In a flash of foresight the old woman could see this boy as a charming young man who would attract countless girls. But she could also see that he wouldn´t be happy about it. She pushed the thought aside. "Nobody can be sure about that, Giuseppe."

"But isn´t that what marrying is about?"

"Not just that, it is also about being there for each other, to stand by each other in hard times."

"Yes, like when you are poor or ill? I know that. But if we love each other we will still be happy, right?"

"I hope so, tesoro*, but sometimes love is not easy, and sometimes it can hurt you instead of making you happy. Sometimes it is not meant to be, like with Romeo and Julia. You know the story, don´t you? Love is hard to explain and it is hard to understand the ways of love. It might be that things will change between Giulietta and you, and you will feel differently about each other in the future." *treasure

The boy looked at her in disbelief. "No, that´s not possible, Nonna. I will always love her. And we will get married and live happily ever after, isn´t that how it works? I am absolutely sure."

"That is good, carissimo*." The old woman bent down and placed a soft kiss on the boy´s dark hair. "Everything will come in due time, Giuseppe, don´t worry too much. You are still young. Now run along." *dearest

The boy looked up and kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks Nonna." He jumped up and ran out without as much as a backward glance.

XIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXXIXIXIXIXIX

Joe had restlessly tossed and turned in his bed.

The letter had stirred up many things. Love, hurt, fear, hope, defeat and deep hopelessness. It had reopened a wound he had negated but which had been festering for all those countless years. He had pushed it aside, buried it deep, but not deep enough.

He realized that the wound had never healed, it almost felt as if it had not even started to close. Now he wasn´t sure it would ever do.

In the small hours the memory of that one conversation with his granny had suddenly surfaced. He could remember it with vivid clarity. But only now the significance of what she had said hit him like a sledge hammer.

Love hurt. Like hell in fact. Giulietta "Jules" had always been his one and only true love. Somehow he felt it was his fault that he might have turned her into a tragic Julia. But how could he have prevented it? He had no idea.

XIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXXIXIXIXIXIX

"Got a minute, Annie?" Joe timidly entered the office of Annie Hartung, the wheelchair bound colleague who was in charge of ballistics and the likes. She had taken Joe under her wing the moment they had met and they had become good friends in no time.

"You need some motherly advice on how to treat a sunburn?" she asked, taking in his vividly red nose and cheeks.

He looked down, the flush of embarrassment adding to the intensity of color on his features. "Well…no, not exactly." He grinned sheepishly.

"Sorry Joey, I didn´t mean to make fun of you." She pointed at the chair beside her desk. "Why don´t you sit down?"

"Thanks." He sat down and she could see that he felt uneasy, that he was searching for the right words. But he said nothing.

"Joey, what´s on your mind? Can I help you with anything?" She sensed his insecurity.

"Yeah, Annie, in fact you can." His hands were nervously kneading each other. Another pause ensued.

"Well, why don´t you tell me then, Joey?"

"Yeah, sorry." He took a deep breath. "You know I have some days off work coming next week and I need to go someplace."

"Oh, I didn´t know that, Joey, where do you wanna go?"

"I need to meet someone, you know, it´s very important. I only learnt yesterday about it and I…I have a problem." He looked at her with his big eyes, the awkwardness quite plain to see.

"And are you gonna tell me what the problem is or will you keep me guessing?" Annie smiled inwardly at his manners. He was always so reluctant to tell others what moved him.

"Sorry, of course not. I wanted to ask you if you could lend me some money. I need it for a flight I have to take. I didn´t know until yesterday otherwise I would have tried to put some money aside." She could see that he felt uneasy about his plea.

"You´re not planning to go to Chicago, are you?" It was common knowledge that he couldn´t go back home unless he wanted to risk his life.

"Oh no, of course not. It´s not Chicago. But the person I need to meet is very important to me." He blushed.

"A woman?"

He nodded. When he saw her expectant face he added: "Not what you think, we go way back." He hoped he had not given away the true nature of his quest.

"Ok, and you didn´t want to ask Levon?" Annie knew that Joe had had a bad experience borrowing money from his partner. It had almost led to the splitting up as partners.

He nodded again. "I´ll repay you next payday, you can be sure."

"Joey, just promise me one thing. Don´t get yourself into trouble, be careful, you hear?" She took his hands in hers. "How much, Joey?"

"Three hundred." He tried to gauge her reaction. But she seemed to be ok with his request. "Can I pick it up at your place tonight?"

"Yeah, I´ll have it ready for you, Joey."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Giulietta Disanto, commonly known as Julia Disanto, went through the list of things she needed to do before she could leave for Las Vegas.

There were two categories of tasks she had to perform.

First of all the ones that everybody was expecting her to do, like packing her clothes for the bachelorette party and three day stay in Sin City. Those she had done in no time and without much ado. They were necessary to keep the appearance up.

More difficult were the tasks that would allow her to finally get away from her family, the mob and the life she had led so far. It had taken her months to work out a plan for that. The final and key opportunity, the one allowing her to get physically away from Chicago, had only presented itself quite recently in the form of that invitation to Las Vegas.

Mentally she went through all the arrangements she had made, some of them even going back almost a year. It had all been triggered by the death of her mother at about that time.

Like for the majority of girls of her generation Julia´s way in life had been predetermined by social conventions. From the very start her school education was merely supposed to provide her with the basics and an education that would allow her to stand her ground in the circles of her class at the side of a successful man, a man from the mob at that. She had obtained that level of schooling without difficulties. But being raised as a girl and in a staunch Catholic Italian family had somehow equipped her with low self-esteem and limited her self-confidence. She had never questioned the future others had planned for her: to become a selfless wife and mother whose sole purpose in life was her family. She had always wanted it herself. Or so she thought.

As long as the man she was preparing herself for was Joseph Anthony LaFiamma, or Tonio as she called him, everything would be perfect. They had known each other all their lives and they had loved each other almost as long as they could both remember. There simply was no doubt that Joey and Julia were meant for each other. They would get married as soon as they were old enough.

It also suited both their families perfectly. Julia had no brothers and her father was the head of a powerful mob family. Joey´s Uncle Mikey counted on his favorite nephew to join the family mob business. The prospects of a merger of the two clans were brilliant and it would lay the foundation for a new and even more powerful family organization.

But in their late teenage years things started to get complicated. Joey had always been a rebel who wouldn´t take the easy road. Even though he had after the death of his parents been raised by his uncle Mikey, one of the most prominent mob bosses in Chicago, and his wife Teresa, Joe had always, with the exception of a single joyride, stayed clear of the mob business and any illegal dealings. When Joey decided to go to law school his uncle had frowned but still thought it could not hurt to have someone within the organization who could take charge of its legal matters.

A year later Joey dropped out of law school. He saw no future in handling the legal or rather illegal business of his mob family as a lawyer. He had made up his mind irrevocably to stay on the right side of the law. Nothing could change his conviction, not Julia, not her father, not Uncle Mikey, not his sons. He simply refused to further pursue the criminal career others had planned for him.

As if to mock them all Joey decided to become a cop.

It had been the end to all their shared plans and hopes. Joey confirmed that he still loved Julia. But he also knew that she would never be able to leave her family to become the wife of a cop. She had cried, pleaded and raged. But nothing could make him change his mind.

The only option was for them to split up.

It had been torture for Julia and she had seen Joey suffer too, seen him fall into a depression in fact. But in the end Joey had pulled through. He had stayed adamant. And he had started his career with the Chicago Police Department.

Thinking back to those days brought tears to Julia´s eyes. She sat down on her bed beside the suitcase she had packed. Her hands kneaded the handkerchief she had gotten hold of and she took a deep breath.

The years that had followed had been hard for both of them. Their love for each other had not changed. But they had painstakingly avoided to meet on family gatherings or other occasions. Joey had slowly risen in the ranks of the CPD though his mob background often proved to be a severe drawback for his career.

Julia had at first aimlessly idled away her time for a while. At last she had realized that bemoaning her fate only made things worse. From then on she had concentrated on helping her mother with her younger sisters. Later the care for her ailing grandparents had become her primary task in life. After their deaths her mother had fallen sick and again Julia had without a second thought taken on that job of looking after her. Julia had never considered herself, always putting everybody else first. She had done what had been expected of a Catholic daughter. It had been her duty before God.

Then about a year ago two things had happened almost simultaneously. After that fatal mob shooting that killed Joey´s partner, Joey was transferred to a place only his uncle and his superior at the CPD knew. With that Julia had lost whatever hope had remained to ever get Joey back.

The second event was the death of Julia´s mother.

Her parents had until then not pressed her to get married. But with her mother gone her father quickly made his point. He needed someone with the right connections and reputation to take over his business, otherwise it would be swallowed by a rival mob clan in the near future. Salvo Barberi, forty-five years old, infamous for his brutality and lack of character, proved to be the right candidate for the position. Taking the daughter of the boss for his wife came with the job description. And Salvo wasn´t disinclined.

Being confronted with her father´s plans had evicted Julia from the permanent purgatory she had lingered in since Joe had left her. But it had in turn taken her over the threshold right into hell, the hell of leading a life as the wife of a brutal and ruthless mob boss.

She had then resolved never to marry that man. She would rather die.

But perhaps there was a third option after all. The publication of the ad in today´s issue of the Chicago Tribune confirmed that her hopes were not totally unfounded.

With shaking fingers she closed the suitcase and took a last look around the room she would never come back to.

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"I guess you´ll have to put in an extra shift to get that report done, LaFiamma," Levon said sardonically. Though Joe had been in the office for over an hour now it seemed he had other things on his mind than that report.

"Leave me alone, Lundy. I´m not telling you how to do your job." Joe provocatively strolled over to the coffee machine, poured himself a mug and with ostentation resumed his place at his desk. He took his time to start the report, halted in midsentence every now and again. At last he ripped the paper out of the type-writer, signed it and shoved it into a folder. He got up to head for the lieutenant´s office.

"You sure that one meets your usual standard?" Levon shouted after him.

Joe looked back over his shoulder. "Even if it doesn´t, it´s none of your business." He knocked on Joanne´s door and when she waved him in he took just one step into the room and threw the report into the inbox on her desk.

"See you in a week, Lieutenant." Joe turned on a dime and was out again before she could answer. As he passed by Levon´s desk he dropped a casual "Have a nice week," and without waiting for a nicety in kind he was out of the bullpen.

A few minutes later Joanne came out of her office, the open folder in her hand. "Is this supposed to be a joke?" The emotions reflected on her face however showed that she was not at all amused.

Levon had put his feet up on the desk. "What?"

"A report of one page for a case that took almost three weeks of your time?"

"Well, looks like you let the boy off the hook too soon with the Chief´s praise and your promise of an extra day off," Levon smirked. But inwardly he could hardly suppress the acute feeling of alarm. This was totally untypical for Joe. He took his work much too seriously to endanger the otherwise good working relationship with their superior with levity.

Joanne stood there for a moment as if waiting for an explanation.

"Yah got any idea what was in that envelope?"

"What has that got to do with anything? You think that´s the reason for Joe´s behavior?"

Levon shrugged. "Well, everything was fine until yesterday. But since Joe got that letter he´s been acting more than weird. I guess he went to the Mesa to read whatever was in it."

"You mean he feigned being sick yesterday to stay away from the office?" She seemed miffed.

"No, he really didn´t seem well when I checked on him last night. But I think there was more to the trip to the mesa than just a casual cruise and a car that ran out of gas."

"That would account for some of his behavior." Joanne frowned. "Somehow I can´t shake the feeling that we haven´t seen the end of it yet."

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The Stardust was one of the big old hotels in Las Vegas. It provided rooms for hundreds of fortune seekers on their quests at the roulette and card tables or one-armed bandits. Nationalities of the clients were wide-ranging and at times exotic. The sheer number of people granted sufficient anonymity.

Joe felt strange signing the register with the maiden name of his grandmother. But he knew it was important to go by the rules Julia had set for their meeting.

"Mr. Lorenzo, I have a message for you." The concierge handed over an envelope and the key to the room.

"Thank you." Joe stuffed both into his jacket pocket. The flight had been uneventful but the closer he had gotten to his final destination the greater his nervousness had become.

Joe felt ambiguous about meeting Julia. His reaction to her letter had proven that he was far from over her. But he had made up his mind a long time ago that under the given circumstances they could have no shared future.

On the other hand he knew that he owed her this. She had written it was a matter of life or death. She had never dramatized or exaggerated things to manipulate others, that just wasn´t part of her personality.

He entered the room and threw down the baggage beside the bed. He retrieved the letter and ripped it open.

 _I will be waiting for you in room 568 at 3 pm. J._

He felt the butterflies flutter in his stomach. This morning he hadn´t been able to eat anything, and he still was too wound up with tension to do so now. He felt almost faint. He looked at his watch, another hour. While her image emerged from out of nowhere he shed his clothes, carelessly dropping them. His imagination was running wild, he felt like a teenager all of a sudden.

He flipped on the lights in the bathroom, turned on the water in the shower and stepped into the still cold spray, drawing in his breath at the sudden coldness. He breathed deeply while the water warmed and finally he relaxed under the warm downpour. He could almost imagine that it was not the water but her hands gently touching his skin…

If he didn´t stop his thoughts here and now he wouldn´t be able to hold himself back…

On impulse he turned the water to cold, his heated emotions taking flight. For a moment he endured the self-inflicted torture and welcomed the return of rationality. Finally he turned the temperature back up, soaped his body and hair and rinsed down the foam at length.

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The knock on the door started her up at 3 pm sharp.

Julia looked through the spy hole and there he stood, his hair still moist, casual slacks and simple teal colored shirt, his features tense.

She opened the door and he quickly stepped inside, pulling the door shut behind him.

They stood for an instant, taking in the picture of the other. They had both changed, had grown into adulthood. Still they could see all their youth in the other´s eyes, all their dreams, all their hopes and most of all their love for each other.

Simultaneously they made a step forward, arms opening automatically and pulling each other in. Julia was a good head smaller than Joe and he bent down to the face she turned up to meet him. Without a single word of greeting their lips met, tentatively yet tenderly touching.

After some kissing and hugging Joe scooped Julia up on his arms and carried her to the bed. Carefully he leveled her down and lay down beside her.

Julia had closed the curtains before he had come, and though the outside world was ablaze with the afternoon sun, the atmosphere of the room was cozy and the dim lighting softened their faces. For a long time they just lay there, facing each other, touching each other´s faces.

"Oh Jules, how could I ever leave you..." Joe closed his eyes and swallowed hard. This was not what he had wanted to say but it had slipped out and given his true feelings away.

"Tonio, I know, I feel the same way…" there were tears streaming from her eyes.

"Are you angry with me?" he whispered. "I can understand if you still are…" He ran a thumb over the wet traces on her cheek.

"No, I never was angry, just desperate. I know you had no choice." She breathed small kisses on his eyebrows and then on his eyes, which he closed with a sigh.

"But it was my choice that…" She placed her index finger on his lips to stop the flow of words.

"If you had become a mob guy you would probably be dead by now and I would be a widow." She looked into the deep teal windows that came open and drew her into an endless universe. "And I would rather die with you than have you make me a widow."

"I couldn´t become a wise guy, that was not the way for me." Joe buried his head at her neck, eagerly breathing in her scent, the scent he would recognize among a thousand others. As his breath tickled her neck he felt goose bumps forming on her silk soft skin. She giggled softly, just like she had done back then, when they had been teenagers, secretly caressing each other in her parent´s home.

But now she did not slap his hand away when he started to open her blouse. Instead she slowly unbuttoned his shirt and started to tenderly stroke his skin on shoulders, arms and chest. She felt him shudder and he started to moan. They were both feeling the rising heat and their breath quickened.

All of a sudden Joe drew back. At the back of his mind the question popped up, the question he had not been able to answer since he had opened her letter. "Jules, why did you want to meet me?"

She too held back for an instant, gathering her thoughts. "Tonio, I am going away. I can´t stay in Chicago any longer."

This was something he never would have expected. "Jules, are you sure? Where do you want to go? Do you think your father will let you leave?" He had over the years turned all the options for her over in his mind time and time again. But what she now had decided for herself was one he never would have taken into consideration.

"If I stay my dad will force me to marry Barberi. I hate that guy. I would rather kill myself."

"No, no Jules, don´t say that. Don´t ever say that." He looked frightened as he took her face into his hands, leaned in close and kissed her again.

"Don´t worry, I think I found a way out."

"What way? Really? How?" Joe sat up.

"I prepared to leave for a whole year now. I have it all planned out." Julia was excited to tell him everything. For a whole year she had not been able to talk to anyone.

"Where will you go, Jules, love? What will you do? I always thought…"

She smiled. "That´s what I thought too, always thought I was no good without my family. But they left me no choice. I have to find a way to live without them…" She nearly choked on the words.

"Just like I had to…" There was a hint of sadness in Joe´s voice. "Never would have thought it would come to that."

They sat on the bed, facing each other, holding on to each other.

Julia squeezed Joe´s hands. "How are you coping?"

He shrugged. "I do, somehow. I guess I´ve gotten used to being on my own, without my family."

"Are there any advantages to it?" Julia searched his face.

Joe thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. Didn´t realize at first, but now I see that the old connections are not tying me down anymore. I don´t have to hold back for the sake of the family, I can now finally make my own decisions."

She nodded. "When my mother died…"

"I´m sorry about that…"

"…you don´t have to be. She was a very clever woman. But I only found out when she was gone."

"What do you mean?"

"All her life my mom put aside money, money my father didn´t know about. I never would have guessed. You know, all these wise guys think that women are dependent. But they are not. I think many of them are quite clever. As I said, my mother put aside whatever she could. She did it for me. She left me almost half a million dollars. My dad doesn´t know about it. She wrote in a letter that she knew I would not be able to spend my life with the man I love. But she also knew that I would not be willing to submit to a man that I don´t love. She left me that money to lead an independent life."

Joe was baffled. He tried to gauge the possibilities. At last he pulled Julia close. "Oh Jules, what does that mean for you now?"

"I have prepared to get away, and tomorrow I´ll be gone. No one will be able to find me."

"Do you think you can manage?"

"I did not think I could at first. But I know even without a proper professional training I will be able to sustain myself. I will work in a nursing home. I already have a job where I will go to. But I can´t tell you where that will be. I have to be very careful about covering my tracks." Her face mirrored her ambiguous feelings. She felt a new freedom and value, being able to earn her own living. The fear that came with the new freedom was something she would have to learn to live with. It was, however, not as threatening as the fear of a life with a man she did not love.

Joe had difficulties grasping the implications. He knew what he had gone through, but how would Julia cope?

"How will I be able to find you, how will I know that you are ok?" He gently cupped her face.

"You remember what we said as children?"

He shook his head.

"Only God knows – Dio sol sa."

He nodded and there were tears in his eyes as she continued.

"Perhaps after a while I will be able to give you a sign, just like the one on the Chicago Tribune you gave me to let me know that you would come to meet me here." Julia smiled.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Joe´s voice was desperate.

But Julia smiled. "Just be with me today, you did all you could by coming to meet me." She bent towards him and kissed him passionately.

Joe let himself be pulled onto the bed. They resumed exchanging tender caresses. Slowly they undressed each other, taking in every inch of naked warm skin. Their tongues intertwined, exploring each other´s mouths. Their warm breath clad each other´s nakedness. There was no shame, no holding back. The promise of their youthful dreams was at last crossing the threshold to final fulfillment.

Just a moment´s hesitation held Joe back as he felt a barrier before she finally surrendered. "Jules, am I hurting you? Are you still…"

"Don´t worry, it´s ok," Julia whispered, gritting her teeth, willing to make happen what she had not been willing to accept all those years ago. The rush of heated emotions swept away the instant of pain and enveloped her in the sweet surge of pleasure.

They had both denied those feelings for years and now, giving into that rising tide, they were swept off their feet. They drowned in each other´s lust and when the final release of pleasure made them scream they suddenly knew why this state was sometimes called the small death.

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Julia got up quietly. She looked down at Joe, the only man she had ever loved and the only one she had ever wanted to be with. There was a faint chance that this encounter had fathered the child she was hoping for, the only part of him she would be able to take with her to her new life, a new life in more than one sense of the word. But it would take some time before she could tell for sure if her wish had been granted.

Joe was deeply asleep and across his face played a sweet smile. She placed a tender kiss on his brow and wiped away the dark hair. Then she quickly dressed and took a picture of herself out of her purse. She slid it into the pocket of Joe´s shirt.

With one last look back she opened the bathroom door and slipped inside. The bathroom had another door to the next room which could be used if the rooms were let as a suite. Julia had been here with her parents and her sisters a few years ago. Planning her escape she had remembered the layout of the rooms. She opened the door and entered the adjacent room, locking the door behind her with a key.

In the neighboring room she quickly put on the uniform of a chamber maid that was lying on the bed. She put her own clothes into a laundry sack and from a plastic bag retrieved a blond wig. In front of the mirror she donned it, taking care to thoroughly hide her own dark curls under the fake hair. She was surprised at how different she looked.

For a moment she listened at the door to the corridor. Everything was quiet. She opened the door and looked to the left. The way to the emergency staircase was free. She peeked to the right. At the far end of the corridor stood a man, dressed in a black suit. He almost looked like one of Salvo´s muscles, but she was not sure. All of a sudden there was a loud commotion around the corner to the left as a drunk couple loudly started to fight. For an instant the attention of the man in black was diverted. He turned his back to her. Quickly she headed for the emergency staircase. When she had passed half the distance the guy turned around and noticed her. He took in the blond hair and uniform and dismissed her as an object of interest, again looking around the corner to the fighting couple. Julia continued on her way, trying not to seem nervous. Finally she was able to close the door to the stair case behind her. Then she leaned against the door with her back and drew a deep breath. She felt shaky. What if they found Tonio? She tried to chase the thought away. Tonio was a cop, he would know how to handle things. While she quickly jumped down the stairs she pulled a trench coat out of the plastic bag she was carrying. She put it over the uniform. In the basement she headed right for the staff exit, went out and walked away into the darkness without looking back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Joe couldn´t even blink to register what woke him before the ether soaked cloth was pressed over his mouth and nose. He couldn´t help but draw a ragged breath and the inevitable grey mist swallowed him instantly.

Salvo Barberi stepped up to the bed. That had been easy. The guy hadn´t even heard them enter the room. Must have been mighty tired, the pretty lover boy after all those love games. What had happened here was pretty obvious. The man was naked. Salvo reached out and got hold of the dark hair, forcefully pulling up the head to look at the face. It was LaFiamma, there was no mistaking.

And there was blood on the sheets.

Barberi felt a surge of red hot rage. He never would have thought that the old maid still was a virgin. But seeing proof of it now made the shame unbearable. Puttana!* She had preferred that pimp over her future husband. He pulled Joe down from the bed and kicked him in the back with all his force, again and again. The rage made him blind. He felt tempted to take that sweet lover boy and do to him what the pimp had done to his fiancée. But raping an unconscious victim just wouldn´t be any fun. He preferred to hear them scream and plead, it added to the excitement. *whore

But where was the whore? Barberi turned to the two thugs in tow. "Did you look everywhere, in the bathroom, under the bed?" There was a fair amount of mocking sarcasm in Barberi´s voice.

"Sure, Capo.*" The younger man, Paolo Morone, was eager to assure him. "She´s not here, but she didn´t leave the room either, I kept an eye on the door ever since he came here." He pointed at Joe. "And she was here with him, you could hear it alright," he added with a lecherous grin. *boss

"Cut it out, idiota. You wanna tell me she vanished into thin air?" Barberi´s voice was sharp as a knife. "Give me the camera."

Morone pulled out a Polaroid camera. Barberi seized it impatiently and took a few shots of the naked man on the floor. Those would be for his private archive. "Get him dressed."

"But boss, we ain´t nurse maids," the older man, Franco Donati objected.

"Just do it," Barberi hissed.

After they had dressed Joe, Barberi took out a newspaper. It was today´s edition of the Chicago Tribune. He placed it on Joe´s chest and took a few more snap shots. Very nice. He waited a moment until the photos had developed. "Give me your knife," Barberi ordered. Donati handed over his switchblade. Barberi flicked it open and cut Joe´s left thumb. Then he pressed the bloody finger to several of the Polaroids, leaving a bloody fingerprint on each. He wrapped the pile in a page of the newspaper and not without satisfaction stuffed it into his jacket pocket.

"Bind and gag him. Pack him up and take him to our room."

The two men obeyed. A minute later Joe had turned into an inconspicuous lump in a large laundry sack. Paolo opened the door and pulled in a laundry cart they had retrieved from one of the service rooms. They heaved the sack inside and headed for the elevator, pulling the door of the room shut behind them.

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As they had subjected Joe to a fair amount of ether it would take some time for him to come to. Barberi wanted to interrogate the man, wanted to know where that slut had gone. So he decided against his initial plan and instead he made up his mind to keep Joe in the suite Barberi had rented and wait for him to come around.

So while Morone watched over Joe and Donati again went in search of Julia, Barberi placed a few calls and made use of the business facilities that came with the room. He put one of the pictures into an envelope, added a message and called the hotel service to take care of a first class delivery. He poured himself a Bourbon from the bar and sat down in one of the large easy chairs.

"Morone!" he shouted, his temper rising and his patience running short.

"Si, Capo?" The voice from the bedroom was a bit timid.

"Has he woken up yet?"

"No, sorry, Capo."

Barberi got up and entered the bedroom. They had laid Joe on the bed on his side and had removed the gag but he still seemed deeply sedated. Barberi nudged his shoulder. There was no reaction. Knowing that Joe must have some bruises from the kicks in the back he had received earlier, Barberi clenched his fist and hit Joe into the lower back hard. There was no reaction. Barberi tried again, this time directing several punches at Joe´s ribcage, still without getting a reaction.

"Watch him, I need him to stay alive," Barberi growled. Paolo Morone shrugged. He wasn´t a doctor, what was he supposed to do to keep that man alive if the boss hit him like this?

Barberi put on his dark jacket, took a roll of paper money out of the safe and stuffed it into his jacket pocket. Then he headed downstairs. He was in Las Vegas after all, there was no reason why all this should spoil the fun of the trip.

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Though Levon had in general enjoyed his first day off work, he felt strange about having parted with Joe in the way they had. When the evening approached and he had finished some of the repairs he had planned he wondered what Joe had been up to today.

Ever since Joanne had complained about the lousy report Joe had handed in, Levon had felt a hunch, a hunch that something was wrong with the boy. He had pushed it aside all day but now he couldn´t ignore it any more.

After he had showered and dressed, Levon picked up the phone. Maybe Joe would join him for dinner at Chicken´s. That would give Levon the opportunity to check on him without being too intrusive. Perhaps they could play a few games of pool. But Joe seemed not to be at home and if he was he did not pick up the phone.

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Barberi had spent an excellent night. He had been most successful, at the Black Jack table as well as the wheel. After savoring his lucky streak he had noticed a woman at the table who was just his type. He had realized right away that she was a hooker. But who cared. At least she knew how things worked and that guaranteed a maximum of pleasure and a minimum of trouble. The cost would be worth every cent.

It hadn´t taken more than a few minutes to make his point. With a professional smile on her lips the fake blond had stayed at his side from then on. They had spent another hour at the tables, bringing up his profits to a round figure.

Then Barberi had felt hungry and they had an excellent late dinner at the hotel´s restaurant. A few drinks in the bar had further heightened the mood. Finally they had retired to his suite, closing the door on the still watchful Morone and his hostage.

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Levon felt at ease. Though the worry for his partner had stayed at the back of his mind, he had at last been able to relax. For him this meant not that he would sleep in. He got up early nonetheless, but he did not have to hurry to get anywhere. He savored the early morning light and he loved to go for a ride at that time of the day. This was the second morning off work he could go for a ride on Fooler and when he returned he felt really relaxed. He decided to prepare a hearty breakfast and when he entered the house he heard the telephone ring.

He thought nothing of it as he picked up the receiver and was surprised to hear Joanne´s voice.

"Levon?"

"Hi Joanne, what´s up?" At the back of his mind he knew something was wrong, something had happened.

"Joanne?"

"Yeah, sorry Levon, I didn´t mean to call you but I need you to come in."

"What? Why?"

"Could you come in? We have a problem here." There was a strange tension in her voice.

"What kind of problem? Can´t someone else handle it? I´m on holiday." Levon felt annoyed but also a bit uneasy.

"Levon, I´d rather not tell you about it on the phone."

"Ok, can I have breakfast first?"

"No."

Now he knew something was really, really wrong.

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As Levon entered the bullpen he could see Joanne and Annie sitting in Joanne´s office. Their faces were tense. When Joanne saw him she jumped up and beckoned him to come in. Levon entered and closed the door behind him.

"What´s up, Joanne?"

His superior and former partner let down the blinds. Now no one could see inside her office. Levon did not take this as a good sign.

"Joe has been kidnapped."

"What?" Levon was totally perplexed. "When? How do you know?"

Joanne handed him a fax showing the print of what looked like a Polaroid. It showed Joe´s face, eyes closed, dead or unconscious? There was a dark stain on the lower part of the picture, it looked like a fingerprint, and Levon wondered at the dark coloring. "How did you get this," he asked, his feelings running the gamut from bewilderment to panic.

"It´s the copy of a Polaroid Joey´s Uncle in Chicago received this morning. He called me and sent this fax. Annie has already checked the print. It is Joe´s left thumb."

"Why is the print so dark?" Levon was afraid he already knew the answer.

"It´s blood, presumably Joey´s blood."

"What´s the message?" This could only have to do with the hit that was still on Joe´s head, the hit the Chicago mob had put on him after Joe had killed the son of an influential mobster. That hit had been the reason for Joe´s transfer to Houston. And it was still on.

But then Joanne had said that Joe had been kidnapped, not killed. "His uncle is to step down from his position or…" She swallowed hard, "…or Joe will die."

"His position as a mob boss?"

Joanne nodded.

"That won´t happen," Annie voiced what all of them suspected. They exchanged ominous glances.

"Joe´s uncle left that option open for now but he wants us to do everything possible to find Joe. He seemed very concerned."

"If I was in that business I´d be too. Seems that someone wants to take over Uncle Mikey´s organization," Levon said it quite matter-of-factly but the implication was clear. Joe seemed to be caught between the battle lines of a mob war, used as a hostage.

Joanne interrupted his thoughts. "The whole thing is complicated. For once the HPD and the CPD are not interested in getting involved in a mob war. But the abducted is one of us and we need to take care of it from that side." She looked from Annie to Levon, gauging if they got the implication. Both nodded.

"So we will keep it to ourselves and start to investigate from here because Joe was still here two days ago and he surely must have left some traces." Joanne paused a moment, then she addressed Levon. "What did Joe say, about what he wanted to do during his week off?"

"I have no idea, you know that Joe acted weird ever since that letter from the CPD came. He wouldn´t say what was in it."

"Joanne, I think I know something." Both Levon and Joanne looked at Annie in surprise. "A day before Joey went on leave he came to me to borrow some money. I guess I should have told you but he felt embarrassed about it." Annie felt uneasy about the whole matter.

"Well, you´re telling us now, Annie." Joanne did not seem to mind that their wheelchair bound colleague hadn´t spoken about it before. "Did Joey say what he needed the money for?"

"He said he needed to fly someplace, needed to meet a woman, someone he knew from way back. But he assured me that it´s not Chicago he was planning to fly to."

"Damnit, I knew it," Levon cursed. "A woman, the letter seemed to have been from a woman, at least as far as I could see the evening I checked on Joe. It was probably a trap. That idiot. He is so damn gullible. Wonder how he ever got this far as a cop."

"Joey is a good cop and he has good instincts," Joanne countered. "But maybe whoever kidnapped him used someone else, I mean someone innocent to lure him into a trap."

They fell silent for a moment. "I have called Joe´s former superior at the CPD and asked about the letter. But he didn´t know of any message that was sent from there. Levon, now we know that Joe wanted to fly someplace could you check with the airport? It shouldn´t be a problem to find out where he was headed. And you should look around Joe´s apartment, look if you can find something that will help us."

Levon nodded. He donned his hat and left without another word.

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"And how can it be that you are not able to get a hold of Signorina Disanto?" The question bore a clear note of sarcasm and anger. Barberi wiped his mouth with a napkin. He had had an extensive breakfast in his suite. The hooker had left hours ago and he had slept in.

Donati cringed. He knew things were not looking good for him. "Capo, she´s nowhere. I checked with the other girls of her group. But she wasn´t with them. I couldn´t ask them about her, could I? No one is supposed to know we are here."

"That´s no excuse," Barberi thundered. He threw down the napkin. "Have you checked her room?"

"Sure, all her things are still there. I also checked with the concierge, she has not checked out yet."

Barberi had gotten up, pacing impatiently. "What about LaFiamma?" He gestured towards the door to the second bedroom.

Morone, who had been glad not to be the target of Barberi´s attention until now, drew in a breath. "He came around at about midnight. Puked some, probably from the ether, but I think he´s ok in general. Had to gag him again to keep him quiet, though."

"I don´t want a health briefing, I want to know if he said anything about Julia," Barberi shouted.

He stormed into the adjacent room, pulling Joe off the bed. Joe had been dozing and the fall knocked the wind out of him. Barberi bent down and ripped out the gag. Joe panted, his eyes pressed shut against the pain pulsing through his body. Barberi got hold of his hair and pulled up his head.

"Where did the little slut go, tell me."

"What slut?" A hard blow caught Joe in the ribs. His vision narrowed and he moaned.

"Don´t play dumb, I know you were in that room with Julia."

"I was there alone. There was no one with me." Joe was hardly able to form the words. No matter what Barberi did, he would never give Jules away.

"Yeah, sure, I believe you. Just like we all believe in Santa." Barberi looked at his watch. It was already early afternoon. He needed to get rolling. He turned to leave the room to get dressed. "Sedate him again and bag him up. We need to go."

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The three men in black with the obscured hostage in tow observed the helicopter descend on the platform of the hotel rooftop.

"Donati, you stay here and get hold of Giulietta." Barberi´s order came out sharply and his menacing gaze did not allow any opposition. "It is highly unlikely that she got away unnoticed. Check with the other girls, they must know something, I don´t care that no one is supposed to know we were here. Just make your point that they are not to talk about it if they don´t want to end up dead." Barberi was fuming. "I want you to take Julia back to Chicago, dead or alive." Barberi was not prepared to bear the shame of her infidelity. He would teach her what was expected of a future wife. "Is that clear?"

"Si, Capo." Donati had lowered his head.

When the aircraft had settled safely and reduced the rotor speed, they stepped out into the open. Quickly the two thugs heaved the sack in, then Barberi and Morone boarded the aircraft. Donati stepped back into the glass shelter.

A minute later the helicopter was airborne. It headed first for the Las Vegas Airport to drop Barberi off, he needed to get back to his business in Chicago. It would be unwise to be away too long in the present situation. Later, when he had taken over his new position as head of the Disanti branch and the LaFiamma enterprises, there would be plenty of time for leisure pursuits.

Within minutes the helicopter was up again, heading straight for some unknown destination in the North West. The light was getting poor in the early evening and there was need to hurry.

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Levon´s first destination was Joe´s apartment. The partners kept a key to each other´s place for emergencies. As Levon entered the building and passed the mailboxes he noticed a letter protruding from the slit of Joe´s mailbox. He pulled it out and headed for the apartment door.

The place looked just like it always did. At first sight there was nothing suspicious. But Levon knew that this was not the place from which Joe had been abducted. From here he had started out with a still unknown destination. Levon mounted the spiral stairs up to the bedroom. Everything was neat and tidy, the bed made. He opened the wardrobe. With the amount of clothes Joe owned it was hard to tell if anything was missing at all. The drawer in the nightstand was the next thing Levon checked. He found Joe´s set of arms. Obviously Joe had not expected to need them, and that was strange for his otherwise so cautious partner. His lack of weapon would have made him an easier target for the kidnappers.

Back downstairs Levon checked the newspapers lying on a heap on the coffee table. In the middle of the pile he found the manila envelope with the telephone number of the Chicago Tribune scribbled across the front. He looked inside, it was empty except for the second, smaller white envelope. He pulled it out and held it to his nose. It smelled of roses. So it was from a woman, the woman from Joe´s past who was important enough to make him leave almost at once and unarmed. Levon picked up the phone and dialed the number of the Chicago Tribune.

"Chicago Tribune, advertising department, how can I help you?" Levon briefly enquired about the business of the department and learnt that it was in charge of taking in customer´s orders for any ads to be published. No, they could not give information as to a caller by the name of LaFiamma and the content of any ad that customer might have wanted to publish. That was strictly confidential. Levon thanked the lady at the other end of the line and hung up.

Then he remembered the letter in Joe´s mailbox. He pulled it out and without a moment´s hesitation ripped it open. There you are. It was an invoice from the Chicago Tribune. It had been paid with a credit card, presumably Joe´s. And it had a cutout ad as proof of the execution of the order glued to the paper. The ad had been posted in the Lost and Found column of the issue two days ago.

 _Lost – Briefcase with old private letters lost in Chicago Central Railway Station. No commercial value. High reward for recovery._

There was a P.O. Box stated for replies, presumably a fake one. Why in God´s name would Joe put such an ad in the paper when he hadn´t been to Chicago for over a year? This was quite obviously an encrypted message, and the recipient of the message could only be the woman who had sent the letter via the CPD.

Levon stuffed the invoice and the smaller envelope into the manila one. He closed the door, locked it and headed straight for the airport.

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Paolo Morone was nervous. He hated flying and travelling by helicopter was scaring the shit out of him. He kept his eyes more closed than open during the whole flight. Only briefly did he see the Nevada desert below. The early evening sun dusted the empty land with a warm hue of red and gold.

But Paolo had no eyes for the poetic sight. His thoughts went back to the last two days. His boss, Barberi, had been totally enraged when they had not been able to get hold of his fiancée. Now it was up to Donati to find her. Paolo did not envy him. The likelihood of finding a woman who wanted to get away in Las Vegas was zero. At least as far as an idiot like Franco Donati was concerned.

Paolo sighed. So he was really glad he had been assigned to the other job, the one of guarding the nephew of Mikey LaFiamma. The guy didn´t seem to be the sharpest knife in the drawer either. He wasn´t even carrying guns and it had been very easy to overpower him. They had caught him completely off guard. To watch over the guy wouldn´t be a problem. Paolo was really expecting it to be a kind of holiday. He had, therefore, taken care to bring along an ample amount of pot. Paolo had gotten rather used to the stuff. It wasn´t as dangerous and costly as cocaine, and he liked the relaxing effect of the drug. Not that he was an addict, far from it. He could stop consuming it any day, did it just for fun in fact.

Paolo looked up, his train of thought interrupted. He realized that the scenery had changed drastically. Where there had only been desert before, there was now a vast and endless forest spread over mountainous terrain. He looked more closely. There were also large threads of mist covering the mountains and forest.

"Shit, shit." The pilot scanned the terrain intently.

"What´s wrong?" Paolo felt uneasy. Shouldn´t that guy be at ease in his aircraft. Why did he seem so nervous?

"I can´t find it. Shit, they gave me the wrong directions."

"Aren´t you supposed to know where you´re going?"

"Sure, but I´ve only just moved to the area recently. And it´s foggy and getting dark. I´m not really sure." The pilot peeked out and directed the helicopter over the forest in a back and forward motion, searching.

Another twenty minutes later the light had waned dangerously. They could hardly see anything. Paolo held on to the armrest of his seat in fright.

"There, that must be it." The pilot stared down at an invisible point in the dark forest.

"What, where?"

"Down there, that must be the place. It´s fully stocked with supplies, firewood, radio equipment. That´s where I´m supposed to set you down."

Paolo felt relief. He had dreaded the flight and would gladly trade it for the solid earth, however humble the lodging might turn out to be.

The helicopter descended, there was a small clearing in front of the wooden building. The pilot pointed out that he should get off there. Paolo unbuckled and got hold of his bag. The helicopter descended some more. The pilot gestured to him to open the door. Paolo pulled the handle, the door opened, he threw out his bag and then forcefully pushed the sack with the hostage over the edge. The sack landed on the ground and Paolo jumped after it.

Paolo was glad to be out of that thing. He hated flying. The helicopter lifted off the ground and was gone in an instant.

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At Houston Airport Levon had no difficulties finding out where Joe had been headed. He had presented his ID as an officer from the HPD and the employee at the counter had not demanded a court order or any such thing. He had typed the name of the person given into the computer and within seconds he had come up with the destination Las Vegas.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Joe felt sick. The repeated ether induced sedation had lifted and it had left a nausea in its wake that Joe had experienced before. Only this time it was worse. He tried to draw a deep breath but he found that he was again gagged. His ears were pounding. The swerving motion of his surroundings and the loud mechanical sound at such high level indicated a helicopter. He couldn´t see, there was a cloth, presumably some sort of sack he had been put in. It was stuffy. His hands were bound behind his back. And his back hurt like hell, like some of his ribs were broken and he couldn´t breathe deeply. He was afraid he would have to throw up. But that would be the death of him. He would choke on his own vomit. He tried to breathe easy, but when he felt the acrid bile rise in his throat he almost panicked.

Then all of a sudden the noise subsided and there was a draft of some sort. Someone kicked him in the ribs again and he rolled over. But the ground gave way and he fell, and with a thud he hit the ground hard. Something in his shoulder snapped with a sharp pain. He would have cried out but the gag kept the cry in his throat. He painfully bit his tongue and wished he was dead.

Then the helicopter sound lifted over his head and rapidly faded away.

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Levon looked at the ad. He had told Joanne what he had found out. It was hard to decide what to do next. He had never been to Las Vegas and there was no way that a cop from the HPD could investigate a kidnapping there on an unofficial basis. And Joanne did not want to go via the Feds.

Then Levon remembered Greg Wilberry. Greg was a colleague who had worked for the HPD years ago. They had been good pals then. Greg had gone to Las Vegas with his fiancée to get married. But on the night of his matrimony Greg had met a show dancer and fallen in love with her. He had dumped his fiancée and on impulse he had married the dancer. Greg had asked to be transferred to the Las Vegas Police Department. And he was happy there with his new wife.

Greg had been a good colleague and friend. He had frequently asked his former colleagues from the HPD to come visit him. Now Levon thought it was time to get in touch.

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It was almost dark now, the light of day had faded rapidly within the last minutes. Paolo picked up his bag and stepped up to the cabin door. He wasn´t quite sure what to expect but what he encountered was certainly not what he had bargained for.

The single room behind the door was empty. Empty in the sense of barren, void of any content. Paolo blinked. The picture before him did not change. He looked behind him but there was no one to talk to, no one who confirmed that this was just a joke and it would change in a second. He looked at the sky and shouted: "Hey, idiota, this is the wrong place. Come back!" But the helicopter was long gone.

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There was no news from Chicago. No further messages. Uncle Mikey had tried to find out which of his opponents might be trying to take over his business. There were several younger men who were ambitious and who wanted to come up in the ranks of the mob hierarchy. But it was a long shot to guess without proof at hand if one of them was responsible for Joe´s abduction.

The CPD had unofficially examined the bloody print on the Polaroid. It was indeed Joe´s blood type.

Levon had contacted his former colleague Greg. He was relieved to find Greg still with the Las Vegas Police Department, now a Lieutenant and he was glad to help. While Levon was on his way to Las Vegas, Greg´s team started to comb through the hotel registers. Joe must have checked in someplace. The question was how long it would take to find that place.

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Levon entered the office of the Las Vegas Police Department. The flight to Las Vegas had been uneventful. Now he was eager to join the team of detectives that was putting every possible effort into finding Joe.

"Levon, great to see you." Greg Wilberry came out of his fishbowl to greet him. "Would have preferred to have you here for a real holiday, though."

"Yeah, right. I´ve never been to Sin City before, come to think of it." Levon lifted his hat and ran his hand through his hair.

"Have you booked a hotel yet? I know a few really cool places."

"I´ll take care of that later. I´d rather see what you´ve found out."

Greg nodded. "Yeah, I can understand that. Well, I have to admit that we haven´t gotten far yet."

"No hotel registration?"

"No, my team has combed through the registers of almost every hotel but we are not really sure what we are looking for. The fact that we haven´t come across your partner´s name anywhere does not mean that he hasn´t checked into any of the places here. Perhaps we need to take a different approach." Greg stepped over to the coffee machine and picked up the perking pot. "Want some?"

"Yeah, thanks, I could do with some." Levon gladly took the steaming mug that Greg had filled for him.

"I had time enough to think about it on the plane. I guess if Joe registered under a false name, he still would use an Italian name. I don´t know why but these stubborn Italians are somehow of too proud to thoroughly renounce their origin," Levon speculated loudly.

"If that´s so then we need to check all the Italian names we have gathered during the search so far." Greg took a swig from his mug.

"How many are we talking about here?" Levon rather enjoyed the strong brew, it revived his senses.

Greg picked up a sheet of paper and looked at it. "About 50 I´d say."

Levon whistled. "That´s a long list, can I have a look?"

"Sure." Greg handed the list over. Levon tried to take in the names. Many sounded strange to him and he wouldn´t even know how to pronounce them correctly. Suddenly he had an idea.

"Do you mind if I phone my partner´s uncle about this. If there is anyone who can help us here it should be him."

Greg seemed hesitant. "I have a few qualms about the privacy of people who are in no way involved in any criminal dealings here." Then he shrugged. "If there is no other way I think I can justify it…" He pointed at the phone. "I might as well leave you to it." With that he left the office to take care of some other business.

Levon pulled out a piece of paper and dialed the number of Michael LaFiamma, Joe´s uncle, the prominent mob boss. He was surprised to have the high ranking man answer after only one ring.

"Pronto?"

"Levon Lundy, Mr. LaFiamma?"

"Si, Mr. Lundy, any news?"

"No, sorry Sir. But we need your help." In a few sentences Levon explained the problem. Michael LaFiamma offered at once to go through all the Italian names. Maybe he would recognize one or the other. Levon wrote down a fax number. Then he hung up. Within minutes the list was on its way to Chicago.

Expecting that it would take some time Levon went to the men´s room. When he returned to the bullpen only minutes later, Greg beckoned him into his office, holding out the receiver to Levon.

"Mr. LaFiamma wants to speak to you, Levon."

Levon grabbed the receiver. "Sir?"

"Take a look at the list."

"I´ve got it."

"OK, there are several names and what is very striking is that they are all registered at the same hotel."

"Which one?"

"All at the Stardust."

Levon ran through the pages. There, the Stardust had really a large number of Italian names registered. "Which names, Sir?"

"Don´t be so damn formal, Lundy."

"Sorry, Mr. LaFiamma, go ahead."

"For one, there is a group of women at the hotel for three nights. I know some of them, they are daughters of …let´s say business partners. One in particular is of interest here: Giulietta Disanto."

"What´s the significance, Mr. LaFiamma?"

"She´s Joey´s former fiancée."

Levon was dumbstruck. Joe had never said that he had been engaged to be married. "Come again?"

"You´ve heard right, Joey and Giulietta were supposed to get married, had in fact been friends since kindergarten and sweethearts since their teens."

"What broke them up?" Levon could not imagine what had happened to separate Joe from a love he had been faithful to all those years.

"They split when Joey decided to become a cop."

Levon swallowed. That couldn´t have been a decision taken lightly. He would have to talk about this to Joe some time or other, well at the odd chance that Joe was willing to. "You think she lured him into a trap?"

"I doubt that, she would never do that. They were both extremely loyal towards each other. But somebody else might have used her or exploited the situation."

"Ok, we´ll check. You said there were several names?" Levon marked the woman´s name on the list and he underlined the hotel name.

"Yeah, there is also a Giuseppe Lorenzo in the register of the Stardust. I think that is the name Joey has used to check in there."

"How do you figure?"

"Lorenzo was the maiden name of Joey´s grandmother, and Giuseppe is Italian for Joseph."

That seemed rather a long shot but maybe it was worth pursuing, Levon thought to himself. "Ok, we´ll check this out. Anything else?"

There was a suppressed curse at the other end of the line. "Merda!"* *shit

"Sorry?"

"There is someone else on the list, Barberi and it looks like he´s brought two of his thugs with him," Michael LaFiamma was fuming.

"Who is he?" Levon enquired.

"He´s Renaldo Disanto´s future son-in-law, that is Giulietta´s future husband. Now I see the connection. Giulietta probably wanted to see Joey one last time before becoming Barberi´s wife. Or she might even have planned to run away from him with Joey´s help. That would also provide a further motivation behind Joey´s abduction."

"Could that also account for the demand…" Levon was reluctant to voice it openly, "…to step down from your position?"

"Yes, I guess now I know who I am dealing with. The Disanto business and the LaFiamma business have coexisted for centuries without any attempts of either party to take over the other. There was a mutual understanding which now seems to have come to an end. Barberi is an ambitious bastard. But I never would have thought that he´d try to expand his business before he has even taken over the Disanto branch." The mob boss refrained from mentioning that Joey´s and Giulietta´s marriage would have led to a much desired merger of the two family businesses.

Levon turned the possibilities over and over in his mind. Just like Joanne he felt extremely uneasy about helping a prominent mob boss to keep up his realm. But that was just a side effect. Foremost on everybody´s mind was the concern for Joe´s health and life. And the information Michael LaFiamma had given them was vital for Joe´s retrieval.

"Ok, we´ll check them all. Thanks, Mr. LaFiamma."

"Mr. Lundy, will you let me know if there is any news?" The powerful man´s voice sounded timid all of a sudden. "With regards to Joe, I mean?"

"Yes, I will, but just as far as Joe is concerned," Levon stated matter-of-factly.

"That´s understood, Mr. Lundy, that´s understood without doubt." Michael LaFiamma sounded almost resigned. Then there was a click and the line went dead.

Levon put down the receiver and turned around, looking straight into Greg´s expectant face. "Let´s get rolling." He grabbed his hat and with the list in hand headed for the door.

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Now that they knew where to look for traces Leven felt almost elated. But at the back of his mind there was still that nagging feeling, that hunch indicating all too clearly that his partner was in trouble, really big trouble. Why hadn´t Joe told him about the trip? But on second thought Levon had to admit that in the past they hadn´t shared private or confidential matters lightly.

On their drive to the Stardust Greg tried to divert Levon by pointing out the sights of Las Vegas. But Levon was too preoccupied. So in the end they both fell silent.

Finally they reached the Stardust. After briefly explaining why they were there and what they were looking for they were lead to the office of the manager. Mr. Burrows called in the concierge. Together they went through the bookings and the register on the computer system.

"As it seems, Mr. Lundy, all the guests you are referring to have already checked out again. The last ones were the women of that group who came here to party." The manager seemed apologetic.

"Do you have any information about the means of transportation these people took when they left?"

"Well, we´ll have to check that." The manager looked at the concierge. "Marc, can you check that out?"

"Yeah, sure." He left for his own office.

The manager continued to comb through the computer entries. "Here is something that might interest you. It is not completely uncommon, we do have it from time to time."

"What do you mean? What do you have?" Levon´s suspicion was aroused by the remark.

"We sometimes have guests who don´t check out properly," the manager explained.

"Who didn´t?" Levon bent over, tension rising and the hair at the back of his neck standing up.

"There are actually two guests who didn´t check out. First a Giulietta Disanto, and then this Giuseppe Lorenzo. Both also left their baggage behind. But the reservations had only been for two nights, so we cleared the rooms…"

"Where is the baggage? I need to see it," Levon cut in, jumping up from his seat.

The manager continued unimpressed: ":..then we had a Gina Grigio who also did not check out. And in one of the two rooms she booked we found a pair of shoes and a man´s jacket."

"What kind of shoes?"

"I don´t know, it doesn´t say here."

"I need to see those too." Levon could hardly hold back.

The manager reached for the phone, punched in a number, asked for someone to bring the things to his office. "They´ll be here in a few minutes. Do you want some coffee in the meantime?"

"No, thanks."

"Let´s get back to the question of transportation," Greg said. "Could you check if you can find anything about that?"

A knock on the door announced the arrival of the secured items. At once Levon opened the small suitcase and instantly knew by the two shirts lying on top that this case was Joe´s. He also recognized Joe´s jacket. The shoes were Italian loafers, seize 11. The shoe´s Levon had teased his partner about countless times. Levon dug deeper into the content of the case and retrieved a folded sheet of paper. He unfolded it and knew at once that this was the letter Joe had received from the mystery woman. His eyes flew over the neat handwritten lines and somehow he had the acute feeling he was invading a very intimate moment. Blushing he refolded the paper and slipped it into his breast pocket.

Then Levon opened the second small case. The contents were that of a woman, a few clothes, toiletries, nothing significant, no obvious connection to Joe or his disappearance.

"Maybe this Gina Grigio is in fact Giulietta Disanto. Whether it was a trap still needs to be investigated. If it wasn´t, well that doesn´t change things. Joe´s been abducted from that room and he had no chance to get back to his things." Levon met Greg´s gaze.

"But the fact that she left her things behind as well makes it likely that she was taken too. And whoever abducted these two people must have left some traces," Greg concluded.

"I have something here," the manager cut in. "There was a booking for a helicopter flight from here for a Mr. Barberi this afternoon."

This was it. Levon donned his hat and headed for the door. "Where were they headed?"

"That´s not given in the booking. That was a private arrangement with the pilot, you will have to enquire with the airline about it."

Levon looked at Greg. "We´ll find that out for sure, don´t worry Levon." He headed after the Texan, who was already on his way out, throwing a quick salutation over his shoulder: "Thanks for the cooperation."

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Paolo Morone was torn between crying out in rage and burning down the damn place. But that would have left him without a shelter for the night. So he raged for half an hour, kicking the hostage, cussing in Italian, throwing his bag into the cabin and slamming the door shut.

Finally he drew in a deep breath. The attempt to assess his surroundings was hindered by the lack of daylight. During that half hour the light had vanished completely. It was pitch black. For a city guy who was used to always having some light around the whole scene was scaring. It was hardly possible to see one´s own hands in front of one´s face.

On top of everything it was getting real cold. Other than in the city, where the warmth of sunlight was stored by the buildings during the daytime and released during the night, the vast forest around the cabin did not collect the heat. The moisture from the mossy duff evaporated to form a rising mist that further limited the visibility and added to the uncomfortable feel.

Paolo shuddered. For now he couldn´t do anything, just get inside the hut and try to retain at least some warmth. He stepped up to the unshaped lump in the laundry sack. He cautiously jolted it with the tip of his shoe. There was a muffled sound and an uncoordinated movement away from the foot. Paolo took out his knife and slit open the sack. Then he pulled off the gag. He cut the restraints that were fixed around the wrists of the hostage.

The prisoner frantically gasped for breath and started to cough convulsively. The coughing seemed to cause acute pain and he immediately suppressed any further eruption with a moan.

Paolo again nudged him with his foot. "Get up." There was no reaction. The nudge turned into a more forceful kick. "I said, get up!"

"Hold it, will you." Joe´s voice was hoarse. "Give me a second." He slowly sat up. First he felt too stiff to move. Then he slowly brought his left hand and arm to the front of his body. A sharp pain in his right shoulder kept him from performing the same movement with his right arm. He winced and got hold of the arm, cautiously cradling the limb to prevent more hurt to the shoulder. This was probably the result of the fall, he had felt a bone snap when he had hit the ground hard, probably the collarbone. He closed his eyes. One more handicap that added to his disadvantageous position.

Morone nudged him again. "Come on, get going, or do you wanna spend the night in the open?" He got hold of Joe´s left arm and forcefully pulled him up. Joe cried out and in order to avoid more pain he scrambled to his feet. That elicited another cry of anguish and Joe drew up his right foot instantly. Both men looked down at the ground. It was covered with sharp stones. Joe´s feet were bare. When Donati and Morone had dressed him they had neither put his socks nor his shoes on his feet.

Morone cursed. "Get in there and watch your step. The boss will kill me if you cut your feet." Joe wondered at the non-existent logic of the order. Cutting his feet on the stones seemed much preferable to being kicked and thrown out of a helicopter.

Hesitantly Joe crossed the threshold and stepped into the cabin. Taking in the emptiness of the place he sarcastically uttered: "Comfy!" which earned him another kick in the butt.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Dammit!"

Levon was frustrated. Now that they had found out where Joe had stayed and had a pretty good idea who had abducted him, Levon had expected to be closer to finding his partner. But he was not. The booking of the helicopter had turned up with the address of an air service. But their office had already closed for the night. They did not do any night flights and as soon as their aircrafts were safely back to the ground they locked up the premises for the night.

"Come on, Levon, let´s call it a day. We´re not getting anywhere with this before they reopen tomorrow morning." Greg yawned. "Let me take you to my place, my wife has prepared dinner for us. You haven´t eaten anything since you´ve come in this morning."

Levon looked at his watch. Greg was right. "Ok, but I need to find a place to spend the night first."

"No way, you´re staying at my place. That´s the least I can do." Greg put on his jacket and picked up his keys. On his way out he looked back over the empty desks of his unit and turned out the light. They had been the last to leave the bullpen after a long day.

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Joe shifted his position but the result did not render any of the things he wished for: an easing of the pain, more warmth, less discomfort. Through the impenetrable darkness across the room he could feel that his guard was fighting the same odds, except perhaps for the pain.

The cabin appeared to be solidly built but it was bare of any furniture and equipment, had no stove or fireplace. It looked pretty new, perhaps just erected and not quite finished. Maybe an inspection in daylight would tell them more.

Joe was glad that Morone had not tied him up again. It was bad enough to sit or lie on the cold bare wooden floor. By now every bone in his body ached, not only from the repeated beating he had received. He hadn´t eaten in three days but almost as long he hadn´t had anything to drink. He was beginning to feel sick and faint. There was no use in trying to get away in the middle of the night. Even going out a few steps in the pitch black and without shoes to relieve himself had made that clear. It wasn´t even Morone´s fault. The man had wanted to provide water, had looked for it in fact. But in the end he hadn´t been able to come up with anything.

Hold on until tomorrow, maybe tomorrow…Joe held on to the thought as he curled up into a tight ball to ward off the cold.

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Joe had just drifted off into the much desired sleep when a flicker of light and a clicking sound started him up again. He sat up and looked in Morone´s direction. The guy was lighting a cigarette, a rather large and unshapely one at that. Then Morone started puffing on the thing. He savored the smoke, keeping it in for a long time and slowly exhaling it.

After a while the smoke reached Joe. Immediately he could smell what he had expected right from the start. Morone was smoking pot, marihuana.

Joe had in his youth smoked an occasional cigarette but he had never enjoyed it and thus he had never become a smoker. With drugs he had never experimented, he had, in fact, never consumed any narcotics.

Now all of a sudden he longed for a smoke of that stuff. Didn´t they say it could ease pain of the worst kind? Oh God, he wanted to get away from the discomfort, even if it was only by the use of that drug. "Hey, Paolo, mind if I share your smoke?"

"Hey, who do you think I am, the Salvation Army? I have to work hard for my money and I have no intention to share that precious stuff with you."

"Listen man, we´re in this together, aren´t we? Only difference is that you didn´t get kicked and beaten up. So who needs it more, huh?" Joe was pretty sure that his pleading was in vain, still he tried once more. "I think it´s only fair to share that joint with me, when you can´t offer me water or a painkiller. And pot is a painkiller of sorts, everyone knows that."

What Joe hadn´t seriously expected happened nonetheless. After a moment Morone got up, came over and sat down beside Joe.

"Here," Morone offered the half smoked joint. "Take it slow. You haven´t eaten in a while. So be careful."

Joe took the cigarette and cautiously drew the smoke into his lungs, slowly, testing its effect. For a while the two man passed the fag back and forth, both now savoring the smoke and slowly indulging in the pleasure. Soon both felt the cold retreat and after a while Joe could perceive that the pain lessened. Then he slipped into oblivion and at last he did not even notice that Morone took the butt from his fingers and finished it off.

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Barberi was glad to be back home. He had relished the trip, the hooker and the gambling had been very enjoyable. But the business part of the trip had not met his expectations. His fiancée had not turned up. Donati hadn´t come up with the smallest trace of that slut. But what had he expected? The guy was just useful for the rough things, when no brains were required. Perhaps he should have assigned Morone to the job.

The abduction had been a success but so far it hadn´t rendered the desired result. Michael LaFiamma had not reacted to the death threat to his nephew. Perhaps Barberi needed to emphasize the seriousness of his intention. He got up from the breakfast table and picked up the phone. He punched in the number of his private secretary, Carlo Sachetti.

"Carlo, have you been in contact with Morone?"

"Sorry, Capo. I couldn´t reach him."

"What do you mean, you couldn´t reach him?"

"There is no answer. I am not even sure if there is a proper connection."

"Madre Mia, am I only surrounded by idiots? Have you checked with the technician? I have paid a lot of money for that satellite telephone. What´s wrong with it? Can´t Morone handle it?" The barrage of curses made the man at the other end of the line duck.

"I´ll try again, Capo. I´ll let you know when I get through."

Barberi smashed down the receiver. He felt like killing someone.

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"So what have we got so far?" After a good dinner, a better sleep than he had expected and a hearty breakfast Levon was back at the bullpen of the Las Vegas Police department.

"I called the airline and they stated that the pilot had not entered a destination in the log." Greg looked at his notes.

"Isn´t it a rule to properly file a log entry in the aviation business?" Levon gave the trash can a kick.

"Sure is, Levon." Greg tried to placate his colleague. "But we´re dealing with mob business here. I guess the guy knew why he kept the destination in the dark."

"So what do you suggest now?" Levon was at a loss. This wasn´t his town and he felt kind of helpless.

Greg shrugged. "We need to get in touch with that guy. I want to put him through a proper grilling."

"Ok, then let´s go," Levon said, getting hold of his jacket.

"Hold it, Levon."

"What?" Levon turned back.

"They said he is on leave."

"Who?" Levon wanted to shout, but he asked as quietly as he could.

"The pilot, he is on leave for the next three days. He will not be back for a while." Greg knew how hard this would be for Levon. He could see it in the way Levon was running his hands through his hair.

Levon tried to calm down. "Is there any way we can find that guy?"

"Only if we go o where he lives and that is the same place where the airline is situated," Greg explained.

"And where would that be?"

"South Lake Tahoe."

"Where exactly is that?" Levon frowned.

"Roughly four hundred miles from here, to the north west to be exact. And it´s just across the border into California."

"Shit." Levon felt like crashing his fist into the wall. "How can I do an investigation there without involving the Feds? And if I have to go that way it will be the end of Joe´s career in the police force." He turned away so that Greg could not see his face. "And if I don´t go for it Joe will die."

"Not necessarily, you don´t know that, Levon." Greg laid his hand on Levon´s shoulder. "I can understand how you feel."

Slowly Levon turned around. "No, you can´t." He had never said what he was about to say now, hadn´t even been aware of it. But the instant the words passed his lips he knew they were more than true. "Joe is like a brother to me. If I lose him I lose my family all over again." Levon had spoken the words so quietly that only Greg had been able to hear them.

Greg nodded, his face grave. "Ok, I´ll find a way, I promise."

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Morone shivered. He dug his hands into his jacket pockets and drew up his shoulders. The temperature could be hardly above freezing point. The view, however, was stunning. He could see far over the valleys and the morning light illuminated the layers of mist that covered the mountains. It looked almost like a painting. Everything was soft and blue and unworldly, it was incredibly beautiful.  
He heard a sound and turned around. LaFiamma came out of the cabin and he didn´t look good. He seemed to be gritting his teeth and in an attempt to retain warmth he was hugging himself. He didn´t look much like the super cop his uncle had said he was. He set his bare feet carefully.

"Paolo?"

"Si?"

"Where are we?"

"I don´t know, really. This is all wrong. The pilot said that there would be food and supplies, firewood and radio equipment to keep in touch." Morone sounded almost desperate. He felt totally out of place here. He was a city boy. How was he supposed to find his way around here?

"It´s beautiful." LaFiamma´s gaze went far over the scenery. "Like a painting."

"Yeah." A long silence ensued. Finally Morone said: "It will kill us."

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While Greg was on the phone with someone he knew in Tahoe, Levon called Joanne to fill her in on everything they had found out.

"Ok, Levon, I will inform the Chicago Police Department. Did you speak with Joe´s uncle?"

"Not yet, I first wanted to check with you if it´s ok."

"Well, I think for Joe´s sake we should tell him about Barberi. Is it possible that he took Joe back to Chicago?"

"No, the helicopter flight couldn´t have gone that far. But I think I should check also with the Las Vegas Airport if any of the people connected with this have left from there."

"Yes, that´s a good idea. I will speak to Michael LaFiamma. He´s got his own sources and it could be worthwhile to exploit those unofficially. You call me when you find out something new."

"Will do, thanks Joanne." Levon put down the receiver. He noticed that Greg was also about to finish his call. Greg beckoned him to join him.

"I´ve contacted a guy in Tahoe, a private investigator I know from way back. He owes me a favor. He will try to find the pilot. He usually is very good at these things." Greg smiled.

"I hope you´re right. So besides calling the Las Vegas airport we can´t do much right now?"

"´fraid so." Greg shrugged.

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The search of the cabin´s surrounding made it clear that this place had been newly erected only recently. Except the cabin there was nothing else but a small shed on the opposite side of the clearing on which the helicopter had landed. Paolo thoroughly examined it and he came up with a few tools, buckets and a mug. But there were no other things stored, nothing to eat, no blankets or anything they could use to stay warm.

Without proper footwear it was impossible for Joe to help search the area. Paolo had looked through his bag but he only had one spare pair of shoes and they turned out to be much too small for Joe to even consider wearing them.

Paolo also found a small creek nearby and there he filled one of the buckets with water and carried it back to the cabin.

"Easy, don´t drink it too quickly," he warned Joe, who eagerly gulped down the ice-cold water in large swigs from the mug Paolo handed him. He was right. A few minutes later Joe was out of the cabin, puking.

"I told you, man, the water is too cold, you gotta take it real slow." He helped Joe back inside. Then he rummaged through his bag and came up with a pullover which he gave to Joe. "Put it on, man, you look like you could do with some warmth."

Joe tried to don the pullover but beside the fact that it was much too small for him he couldn´t move his arm. The fracture of the collarbone was too painful to lift the arm. So in the end Paolo just put the pullover around Joe´s shoulders. It wasn´t much but it was better than nothing. "Thanks."

For a long time the two men sat beside each other, leaned with their backs against the cabin wall.

Finally Paolo spoke up. "LaFiamma, I will try to get away from here, find help. There is no other solution. The place doesn´t look like anybody will be coming back here sometime soon. It´s too late in the season for that." He looked at Joe.

"Yeah, that´s how I see it too. What do you wanna do about me?" He suspiciously eyed the man assigned to the job of guarding him.

"What do you expect me to do, man? Carry you down the mountain on my back?" His face showed compassion and rage at the same time. "Listen, this wasn´t supposed to happen. At best we would have stayed here for a few days until your uncle was willing to hand over his business to my boss."

"That is never gonna happen."

"Well, if that is so then what you get now is even better for you. I leave you here, and as soon as I find help I will send someone up to come and get you. You will stay alive." Paolo sounded as if he was trying to persuade Joe to take the bargain, as if any of this was up to Joe. "Of course you can try to walk down the mountain with me."

They both knew that was not an option. Joe would never make it, not in the state he was in and certainly not barefoot. And then there was the question of where Paolo should head. Both men were total strangers to the wilderness that surrounded them. They had no idea how to survive in such a place, let alone find help they had no idea where to look for.

A long interval of silence ensued. Both thought about Paolo´s remark in the early morning.

 _It will kill us._

It wasn´t unlikely. It was even probable. If one was realistic it was actually inevitable. But the time to face that fact hadn´t come yet.

"Ok," Joe finally said. "You go. But please don´t tie me up again, will you?"

Paolo got up. "No, I won´t. Doesn´t make any sense now, does it?" He went for his bag and looked through the content. When he came across the joints with the pot he hesitated. There were six of them. What the heck! He took three and wrapped them in a paper handkerchief, then offered them to Joe together with a second lighter he had retrieved from his jacket.

"Here, I´m sorry there´s nothing to eat. But with the water and the smoke you might be able to last…a few days…until help will come."

Joe was touched. Here was that tough mob guy, someone whose job it was to kill people without any qualms, and he was actually showing compassion. "Thanks, Paolo." He took the joints and lighter and cautiously put them into the breast pocket of his shirt.

"But remember to take it slow, don´t overdo it, you hear?" Paolo grinned. "Not with the pot and not with the cold water." With that he donned his jacket and went out.

"Take care." Joe called after him. Then he was alone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The day dragged on and Levon felt they weren´t getting anywhere with the investigation.

Las Vegas airport had confirmed that Barberi and his thug Donati had taken a flight back to Chicago. The other man by the name of Paolo Morone had vanished. As had Giulietta Disanto. Michael LaFiamma had been in contact with her father and learnt that she had not returned with the other women of her group. She hadn´t been in contact with anyone. No demand for ransom had been issued. Either she had run away or Barberi had killed and dumped her somewhere. Or this Morone guy was with the two abducted people, wherever they were held. But when Levon thought about it he came to the conclusion that Barberi wouldn´t kidnap his own fiancée. The marriage was scheduled for the next month. So he would have had her and there just was no point in burdening himself with her as a prisoner now.

The PI, who Greg had set about finding the pilot, hadn´t been successful so far. But he was working on it.

It was going to be a long wait.

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Paolo Morone cursed his luck. If anyone had ever told him he would be trying to find his way around a wilderness like this he would have laughed. But actually this wasn´t funny.

He had at random picked a direction and set out. But after two hours his feet were covered with bloody blisters and he could hardly walk. His nice expensive shoes with the thin genuine leather soles were torn to shreds. The stony slope of the mountainside was hell to walk down and if there had been a path leading away from the cabin he had lost it long ago. Everything looked alike and if he hadn´t still been descending, he would not even be sure he wasn´t walking around in circles. He was thirsty and there was no creek in sight.

Maybe he should have stayed with LaFiamma. They could have smoked the pot and in the end he would have shot the guy and then himself. Would have been better than to die in the woods.

He got up and gritted his teeth. The first steps hurt like hell, but he ignored it. There just was no use. With a curse on his lips he resumed his journey.

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For Joe the day passed slowly. He was hungry, felt cold and every bone in his body was aching. The weather was windy and cold. So he stayed inside, tried to sleep. But sitting or lying on the hard cold floor was extremely uncomfortable. So he got up from time to time, stretch as far as his injuries would allow and tried to generate warmth by walking around. But nothing really helped.

To divert his attention he looked out of the single small window. There wasn´t much to see. No signs of planes or helicopters, no sounds from any sort of vehicle. He seemed to be totally cut off from the outside world.

He was alone with his thoughts. And those were not positive. He had no illusion about his own situation. The more time passed the greater became his doubts. Perhaps he should have asked Paolo to stay with him. The guy wasn´t all bad, he had proved that alright. And he had a gun. A gun could be used to take one´s own life in case there wasn´t another option left. And dying side by side with a mobster was perhaps what fate had had in stall for him all along.

When it grew even colder in the evening and the impenetrable dark set in Joe crawled under the torn up laundry sack to sleep. But sleep wouldn´t come. He thought of Paolo and how far he might have gotten in his search for help. Joe tossed and turned and at last he sat up again. He reached into the pocket of his shirt to retrieve the lighter and the joints. But his fingers touched something else, something plain, a piece of paper? He pulled it out, it had one papery and a glossy side. It was too dark to see and at last he decided to use the lighter. It flicked on and he realized that he was looking at a photograph of Julia. It was a recent one and she was laughing. She was incredibly beautiful. He turned the picture over and on the back she had written something. The three words sprang out at him. He recognized them from his childhood. It was the mystical spell they had frequently quoted, the charm that had embodied the fulfillment of all their hopes and dreams for a common future.

 _Dio sol sa –_ only God knows

The place where they would live as lovers, hidden away from the world, happily ever after.

Funny thing, now only God knew where he was – Dio sol sa.

He put the picture back into the breast pocket of his shirt and instead pulled out a cigarette, lit it and started to smoke. While the cold retreated and the pain eased, his mind wandered back to his childhood. All of a sudden the drug induced relaxation took him back in time to when he had been six years old.

XIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXXIXIXIXIXIX

"Nonna Maria, tell us about that castle again." The two six-year-old kids had come to keep the old woman company on this rainy and dark November day. She knew they had sought her out because they couldn´t play outside and they were bored. But she did not mind.

"Come sit down, bambini." The old woman patted the sofa on either side of herself, and the children climbed up to sit beside her on the old threadbare piece of furniture. The girl had dark curls and the boy´s straight hair had a tendency to fall into his eyes. A pair of dark brown and a pair of teal colored eyes looked at her expectantly. The boy was her grandson Joseph, whom everyone called Joey, though his grandmother still used the Italian equivalent and called him Giuseppe. The girl was his inseparable friend Giulietta, known to everyone as Julia.

"Now, Giulietta, Giuseppe, what do you want to hear about that castle?"

"Everything, Nonna," they shouted in unison. She smiled at them benevolently.

"Buono, senti.* A long time ago there was a tiny castle in the woods near the ancient city of Siena." *good, listen

"How long ago?" the girl asked.

"Well, I think the castle was very, very old."

"Even older than you, Nonna?" the boy enquired.

"Si, far older than I am. If you take my years and then go back in time to my Grandmother and the Grandmother of my Grandmother you still will not have enough years to equal the years of just how old that little castle was."

"Who built that castle, Nonna?" Though the little girl was not her own grandchild, it was customary for the children at that age to call all the old women in the Italian community Nonna which meant Granny.

"There was a young nobleman who had that castle built for the woman he loved. The families of the young couple were at war with each other. But the young people loved each other so much that they decided to go away to live at a secret place."

"And that was the castle!" Joey shouted triumphantly.

"Yes, that was the small castle."

"But why was it so tiny, Nonna?" the girl wanted to know.

"You can imagine that their families were very angry that the young people eloped. So they would not give them any money to get by. The young man didn´t have enough to build a larger castle."

"What is elope?" Joey frowned.

"They ran away together to get married against the will of their parents. That is what we call eloping."

The children exchanged glances. "But Nonna, Jules and I don´t have to elope, do we? It will be ok for us to get married." The boy´s eyes were large and his face completely earnest.

"That is right, you won´t have to elope. But you still have a lot of time before you get married, you are still young."

Now the girl spoke up. "But we already know that we want to marry each other."

"Buono, bambini. But do you want me to continue now?" The old woman couldn´t stay serious, these two kids were just too cute.

"Yes, go on," they both shouted.

"Well, as I said, the castle was deep in the forest and it was very hard to find. There was no road leading there, there was just a footpath wide enough for one man on horseback."

"Nonna, the bad parents did not know where that castle was?"

"No, Giuseppe, no one knew where the castle was. That is where the name of the castle came from."

The children looked at her expectantly, of course they had heard it before, but they just couldn´t hear it often enough.

"Tell us the name, Nonna, tell us the name," the boy could hardly sit still.

"It is called il Castiglion che Dio Sol Sa, the castle that only God knows."

"Si, Dio sol sa, Dio sol sa." The little girl repeated the word like a spell.

Joey got hold of Julia´s hand. "We will go there and no one will be able to find us."

"Yes," the girl said with a cute smile, "and we will live there happily ever after."

Nonna Maria smiled, but what went through her mind at that moment she kept to herself.

Only God knows – Dio sol sa.

XIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXXIXIXIXIXIX

Levon hadn´t slept well. His anxiety for the life of his partner had grown considerably during the last twenty-four hours. It wasn´t a good sign that there hadn´t been another message or threat. Could something have gone wrong with Barberi´s plan? But what?

When Greg and Levon arrived at the bullpen there was a message from the PI at Lake Tahoe. Greg called him right away.

"Dean, what have you got for us?"

"Hi Greg, I found the pilot. But he couldn´t tell me as much as I hoped for.

"How´s that?"

"He´s new to the region. He seems to be involved in some shady business, but he´s not familiar with the terrain."

"Meaning?" Levon asked, who had picked up another phone to listen in on the call.

"Well, he said he was supposed to drop Morone and LaFiamma off at a cabin in the mountains someplace, but as I said, he is new to the terrain, and he had difficulties finding the place. Now he isn´t sure anymore that he picked the right one."

"How does he figure?"

"The client came back to him because he could not contact the two. They were supposed to be in touch via radio. But they could not be reached."

There was a pause, Greg and Levon were thinking hard about the implication of the information they had just received.

"I need to go there, at once." Levon smashed down the receiver.

Greg looked up at him, listening to something being said on the other end of the line.

"What?" Levon said with an impatient gesture of his head towards the door.

"He says you need to hurry then," Greg relayed.

"Why?"

"Dean says they are expecting a blizzard front to hit the region in a few hours."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Have you given the warning to everyone, to the hotels and skiing lodges, and to everyone with a radio?" Matt Hawkes, High Mountain Ranger at the headquarters at South Lake Tahoe asked.

"We´ve informed all people who´ve come for the skiing season to return to the hotels. All the cabins have been closed down. There are just the usual hermits who refuse to come down." His colleague Izzy Flowers ran a finger down a list.

"Like Old Toby?" Matt grinned. Toby never left his cabin, not even in winter.

"Yeah, Toby and of course your dad and Cody."

Matt shrugged. His dad, a former High Mountain Ranger and role model for his two sons, lived in his cabin high up in the mountains all year round and with Matt´s brother Cody. A blizzard wasn´t anything that would make the experienced ranger leave his home. But he was aware of the dangers and he was well equipped for the isolation and hardship of a winter in the mountains. A few days without contact to the outside world did not pose a threat to him.

The blizzard they were expecting now wasn´t anything unusual, it was just a bit early in the season. So there were more people they had to take care of, more skiing tourists. But everyone was registered somewhere. And everyone was accounted for at some lodging. Thus it wasn´t really hard to get the warning across to everyone and take care of things.

XIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXXIXIXIXIXIX

Joe woke slowly. He could hardly move. His back hurt like hell. He felt cold to the bone. Sometime in the night he must have fallen asleep. The drug induced dream from his childhood still lingered on the verge of his consciousness.

Again the implications hit him.

Dio sol sa – only God knew where he was. He was lost, he was alone.

He looked at his watch and was surprised. It was way past midday. He had not expected to sleep so long because of the uncomfortable situation. Slowly he sat up. He felt dizzy and sick, most likely on account of the pot. Probably the effect of the drug was stronger if one had nothing to eat. At least he had water now.

He leaned over and with the mug dipped into the bucket. To his horror he found a thin layer of ice on the water´s surface. How could it be so cold inside the cabin? With a shock he became aware of the fact that he could have frozen to death without ever feeling it. He shuddered as he filled the mug. The water was so terribly cold. He could hardly take it into his mouth to warm it before swallowing it. His teeth started to chatter and his hand with the mug shook so hard that the water spilled over the rim onto his trousers and he quickly set it down.

Finally he got up and opened the door. The gust of wind that hit him made him shrink back. But he needed to relieve himself and he forced himself to step outside. There was a trace of newly fallen snow on the ground. He rolled down the socks Paolo had given him, pulled them off his feet and threw them behind himself back into the room. He did not want them to get wet. They would never dry again.

Gritting his teeth Joe stepped outside and around the corner of the building, trying to ignore the sharp pain the cold caused in his feet. But he had in no way anticipated what was coming next. The painful burning sensation as he started to pee drew his gaze down, and the pattern on the white snowy ground made him realize that he was not only passing water but also blood.

Great. This was just the time and place to consider seeing a doctor.

XIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXXIXIXIXIXIX

It seemed impossible to find anyone who was willing to fly from Las Vegas to South Lake Tahoe. Greg again took to the telephone, attempted to track down everyone he knew with a plane. Of those people some were out of town, some were on trips somewhere else and the rest was down with the flu. It was downright frustrating.

When Greg was at last successful and turned up with an old friend who agreed to fly, it was too late. The blizzard was rapidly approaching from the north-west and that was exactly the direction the flight had to take. Considering the speed of the storm and the plane it was obvious that they would meet half way. So the only option was to wait until the blizzard had passed.

Greg did not mention that this would not be the only obstacle. When the blizzard would have passed there was also the question how the condition on the airport in Lake Tahoe would be. Snowdrifts would have to be removed to allow landing and an icy runway might downright prevent any touch down at the port of destination.

Levon knew this as well but he pushed those considerations aside. Thoughts of Joe spun through his mind, all kinds of scenarios of where he might be or what might have had happened to him. The idleness was driving Levon crazy. He had the acute feeling that they were running out of time. But there was absolutely nothing they could do except wait.

XIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXXIXIXIXIXIX

Joe went back inside and attempted to dry and warm his feet, then put on the socks. He crawled back under the remains of the sack. Meanwhile he was pretty sure that the pain in his back was emanating from his kidneys and had something to do with the blood he had passed along with his water. All through the afternoon he felt the onslaught of violent chills. He tried to drink some of the water from the bucket, but he felt so sick that he brought it up again every single time. While the blizzard gathered momentum and howled around the cabin, a relentless fever seized Joe and filled his heart with sheer despair.

When the pain became too fierce to bear, Joe reached for another cigarette. He could hardly get the lighter going, his hands were too shaky and his fingers were numb from the cold. This time it took long for the respite to come. The combination of the drug and the sickness took Joe away from the cabin and back into Julia´s arms. He had spent almost all his life with her before they had split. Now he longed for her comfort and consolation. Soon his feverish brain confused Julia with other members of his family who had taken care of him: his grandmother, his mother and his aunt Teresa. He was held, he felt soothing hands run through his hair and as he cried in his despair he could feel his tears being kissed away.

When he at last slipped into total oblivion the snow had already formed a large drift in front of the cabin door. But the force of the blizzard had not yet abated.

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"Well, what have we got?" Matt Hawkes scanned the chart with the messages that had come in during the last hours. Luckily they were only few, and their content was quite ordinary.

"It´s been pretty calm, actually," Izzy said. They both looked out of the window. The landscape had changed to a glistening winter wonderland under a clear sky of the bluest of blues. The blizzard had kind of wiped out everything before leaving only fresh and frosty crispness.

"Just what we were hoping for." Matt felt relieved. Of course these emergency situation were just what made his job most exciting. But still it was good to see that nothing really bad had happened.

"Matt, I have a call here from Frank." Robin, the only female on their team of High Mountain Rangers, was in charge of coordinating all communication. "He´s on his way to clear the road to the resorts and he reports that he found a body, just off the road."

Matt was at her side at once, seizing the radio microphone. "Frank, what´s this about?"

"Hi Matt, this is pretty strange. I came across a body here. The guy is a bit out of place, frozen to death obviously."

"What do you mean by out of place?" Matt enquired.

"Well, he´s just wearing a black suit, no winter clothes, like he dropped out of nowhere. His fashionable loafers are in shreds. Looks like he walked a long way."

Matt and Izzy looked at each other, unable to think of anything that might have brought the man in such strange attire into the mountains to die in the middle of a blizzard.

"There´s something else," Frank came over the ether again. "He´s carrying a gun and two joints of Marihuana."

XIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXXIXIXIXIXIX

Another long night had passed, a mostly sleepless night of tossing, turning and waiting. Levon felt a leaden tiredness weigh him down. He was very grateful to Greg and his wife for their hospitality. He just wished he would have been able to stay with his former colleague under different circumstances. On the other hand, being with this really nice couple had helped him to endure the long wait.

First thing Greg had done in the morning was to enquire about the accessibility of South Lake Tahoe Airport after the blizzard. Authorities confirmed that the runways were being cleared at present and that touchdown shouldn´t be a problem for any aircraft coming in at noon or later.

So Levon packed his things and Greg took him to the Las Vegas airport.

Until now an official investigation had not been initiated yet. Still Greg had on the previous day contacted the South Lake Tahoe Police. He had explained about the assumed destination of the kidnapper and his victim and the obvious mix-up there had been with regards to the location of the drop off. At that point in time the police had thanked him for the information, but hadn´t been able to give any help.

They were just entering the parking lot at the airport when Greg received a call.

"83-19, do you read?"

"83-19, loud and clear. What´s up?"

"We just had a call from the South Lake Tahoe Police. They say a body has been discovered on a road leading to one of the skiing resort up in the mountains."

"Any ID on the body?" Greg asked. Levon had sat bolt upright in the passenger seat.

"No, they couldn´t say anything about that yet. Just that it was a city guy in totally inappropriate clothing."

"Cause of death?"

"He was frozen solid. Obviously got caught in the blizzard." Levon gasped.

"Ok, thanks. Tell them I´ll call them as soon as I get back to the office." Greg hung up the mic, then he looked at Levon.

"Levon, are you ok?" Greg brought the car to a halt. "You look like you´ve seen a ghost?"

Levon couldn´t say anything. His throat was constricted, as was his chest. He was almost afraid of having a heart attack.

"Levon?"

Levon drew a deep breath. There was no use panicking now. "I´m ok," he forced himself to say. But he felt terrible.

Greg scrutinized him. "Really, man? You don´t look it."

"What if it´s Joe they´ve found." His own voice sounded hollow, alien.

"Wouldn´t he have carried an ID? They would have told us, Levon. It´s not Joe, it could be anyone, even the guy who was with him."

Only now did Greg realize that this assumption wasn´t good news either. If the two men hadn´t been together, where was Joe? Would Morone have left Joe if he hadn´t been dead already? Barberi´s plan to take over Uncle Mikey´s business was based on using Joe as a hostage. There was no reason why the guard should leave the victim behind unless the hostage had become worthless, either because Michael LaFiamma had turned over his business or the hostage was dead. Now the guard was dead and the hostage was missing.

"Levon?" Greg reached over and laid his hand on Levon´s arm.

Levon had been holding his breath while an assessment of all options swirled through his mind. Feeling Greg´s touch now was the impulse that made him resume breathing. But his breath came in panicky gasps as he started to hyperventilate and the world started to spin.

When Levon came to, he was lying on the ground next to the car and Greg was looking into his face with great concern. He started up, but Greg held him down.

"Easy, Levon."

He sank back onto something that was stuffed under his head, Greg´s jacket. "I´m sorry, Greg."

"Bullshit, Levon, it´s no wonder, it´s all been a bit much, no need to apologize."

"I´ve got a plane to catch." Levon struggled to get up.

Greg steadied Levon as he got up, swaying slightly. "Take it slow, you´ve still got lots of time."

"Didn´t mean to lose it like this but I…I…" Levon felt totally embarrassed.

Greg shook his head. "Don´t worry, it happens to the best of us one time or another." He opened the rear trunk and took out Levon´s baggage. Without another word they headed for the departure area and half an hour later Levon was airborne.

XIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXXIXIXIXIXIX

Only the immense pain brought Joe back around. He found himself curled up in the fetal position, delirious and crying, his face wet, teeth chattering violently. All the bones in his body were aching.

The effect of the pot had evaporated and the fact that he hurt so badly made him wonder why he was still alive. He reached for the bucket of water and this time there was no layer of ice on the surface. So the interior of the cabin must be slightly warmer than before, he concluded. He had no idea that a thick blanket of snow had almost thoroughly covered the cabin and thus served as insulation against the outside cold.

Slowly and with great effort he tried to sit up. The square in the wall above him had been the window only yesterday. But now it shone in a strange bright light, too eerie to be real. He couldn´t get up, he felt too weak. Otherwise he would have seen that the light was the reflection of the bright sunlight on the newly fallen snow.

But in his delirious state he took the light to be a herald of his coming death. Perhaps he was already closer to death than he had thought. Somehow the notion did not fill him with the usual dread. Perhaps it was time to prepare himself to leave this world.

He tried to remember if he had ever witnessed anyone in his large Italian Catholic family preparing for death. But he couldn´t. Perhaps the adults had kept the things connected with death away from the children. He knew that the adults sometimes had called a priest to attend to a sick person and that this person, shortly afterwards, had been announced dead. So the priest had obviously been present when the person had died.

He was alone. For a short moment he thought of Levon and became acutely aware how much he missed his partner. But now there would not be another soul present to help him with his departure from this world and his reception in the afterlife, least of all a Catholic priest.

Joe felt lost.

For a long time he just lay there, trying to figure out what to do. If it hadn´t been for the persistent pain he would have slipped back into the delirious feverish dreams.

Finally he took Julia´s picture out of his breast pocket. He kissed her face. "Goodbye my sweet love, my only love. Please forgive me, Carissima. I hope we will meet again in the next world." Though they had hoped to spend a lifetime together in happiness, the world had in the end only granted them one sweet moment. Then he lit the last joint with trembling fingers. While he slowly and deeply inhaled the smoke he started to recite the words of the universal prayer he had learned a long time ago as a child

 _Padre nostro, *  
che sei nei cieli,  
sia santificato il tuo nome  
venga il tuo regno…_

* _Our Father, who art in heaven…_

His voice grew weaker and trailed off as he slipped for the last time into the drug induced dream state. He suddenly felt strangely consoled and his fear retreated just as did the pain and the cold. At last his hand with the still burning joint dropped limply and the smoldering cigarette rolled on the floor, the ember slowly dying.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The landscape had turned a wintery white, something that Levon only knew from pictures or television. In Houston snow was a rare and fleeting apparition. A thickness comparable to what he saw from the plane now he had never seen firsthand.

Due to the extensive snowfall and the extra time that was required to clear the runway, the touchdown had been delayed. They were approaching South Lake Tahoe and he looked at his watch. It was already 2 p.m. Levon had wanted to be here yesterday, noon at the latest, every hour counted. His mind went back to the incident in the airport parking lot. He still felt awkward and embarrassed.

Levon knew by now that Joe´s fate affected him deeply, not just like that of a mere colleague. He had denied it all the time, for months he had pushed the thought aside. But now Levon knew. He knew that Joe was family to him. Joe was by now as important to him as was Mother Minnie. Perhaps it was better to acknowledge that fact. He pledged here and now, that, whenever this would come to a good ending, Levon would tell Joe how important he was to him.

Levon felt the plane decelerate as the tires touched the runway. He had finally made it to South Lake Tahoe.

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In the arrival terminal Levon was received by an officer of the local police.

"Sergeant Lundy, welcome to California. I´m Jeff Adams, Sergeant at the South Lake Tahoe Police."

"Thanks, who told you I was coming?" Levon knew there wasn´t an official investigation undergoing yet. Otherwise the Feds would have been there to receive him instead of the local police.

"Lieutenant Greg Wilberry, Las Vegas PD called me. I guess you know that we have a body to identify?"

Levon nodded in acknowledgement. "Yeah, Wilberry was informed a few minutes before I left." He picked up his bag from the conveyor belt.

"Sergeant Lundy, would you be willing to help us with the identification? Wilberry told us that your partner from the HPD has been kidnapped." Though Adams had not made the connection openly, Levon knew there was a chance that the body they had found was in fact Joe.

Again Levon nodded. "The sooner the better."

"Good." Adams made a motion toward the exit and Levon followed him. They mounted a police car and ten minutes later halted in front of an inconspicuous building. Levon didn´t see a sign but Adams just said: "It´s here."

Levon hesitated for a moment. _Don´t lose it again._ He held on to the words. _Don´t lose it again._ He got out of the car, he could feel the gaze of the other officer on him, watching. He tried to shrug it off. "Let´s get it over with."

Adams nodded and led the way. They stepped inside the building and he knocked on a door with a milk glass window. A guy in a lab coat opened. There was the usual equipment you would find in any morgue. The two men exchanged a few words. Then the guy with the lab coat leafed through a list, opened one of the cooler doors and pulled out a corpse drawer.

The body was covered with the usual white cloth and as the lab guy lifted it, the first feature that Levon saw was the dark hair, so very much like Joe´s. He almost felt the ground give way under his feet, just for a second he feared to be swallowed by the earth.

He must have swayed, because Adams gripped his arm.

"I´m ok, really." Levon shook off the hand. He ran his hand through his hair and then wiped it across his eyes, as if to clear his vision. Then he stepped up to the drawer and looked straight into the face of the dead man, a man he had never seen before.

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Renaldo Disanto inhaled the smoke of his expensive Cuban cigar deeply. His guest, Michael LaFiamma, did the same. The two wise guys of long standing eyed each other.

"I don´t understand my daughter. I mean, what is she expecting of a life on her own, far away from Chicago, somewhere where no one knows her?" He did not sound angry, just sad.

"You know the women today are different, they are not like our mothers and wives." Michael LaFiamma had two sons and had raised his brother´s son Joey as one of his own since the boy´s early teenage years. His experience with the caprice of women was limited to his own wife.

Disanto laughed, a laugh that turned into a deep cough. "Well, your Teresa used to be a mighty headstrong woman too."

LaFiamma nodded. "So you are sure that Barberi did not get rid of Julia?"

"Si, as sure as you are that Barberi is the one who wants to take over your business." He took another draw at the cigar. "I´m sure. It´s not what I had planned for my eldest daughter, to marry that brute. But when she refused every single suitor after she and Joseph split, I thought there was no other way. And I need someone to handle the business."

"Yeah, that was a hard blow to us too, when Joey decided to become a cop." By now the smoke had rendered the room almost opaque. "We could have built something really great based on that union."

"Maybe we still can, even without them," the old man said thoughtfully. "Now that Julia´s gone I am reconsidering handing over my business to Barberi. The whole plan has lost its purpose. And what you´ve told me about him has changed my mind. A man going about things the way he does will only start a war among the families, already has in fact."

Michael LaFiamma nodded. "What do you propose, Renaldo?

"Take out Barberi. Then we join our businesses. I am too old to run it myself for much longer."

Again LaFiamma nodded. "I have to make sure that Joey is safe first. But as soon as that is guaranteed, Barberi is dead meat."

"Thanks, Michael." Disanto pointed at the tray with bottles and glasses on top of the old side board. "Pour us some whiskey, will you?"

LaFiamma got up, complying. He handed one tumbler to Disanto.

"Salute, to a strong and prosperous union."

"Si, salute."

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"Thank God it´s not Joe," Joanne sounded genuinely relieved. "Still it might take some time to run his prints though the system."

"Yeah, well, it´s kind of strange that he was not carrying an ID. And the gun he had is not registered either. But it´s just the kind of weapon you expect a mobster to be totin´." Levon still felt a bit shaky. He too had been relieved that the body had turned out not to be Joe. But they still did not seem nearer to finding his partner.

"So what are you planning to do now?" Joanne asked, hoping her voice did not reflect her anxiety for one of her best detectives.

"The police guy here, Adams, said he will take me to the headquarters of those High Mountain Rangers. They are familiar with the region. They should be able to help with the search."

"How´s the weather?"

"It´s sunny and clear. But the snow is very high and it´s really freezing cold." Levon tried to push the thought aside what that meant for anyone lost out there.

"Ok, so you get on that search and we´ll wait for the prints to be identified. I just hope the guy is registered somewhere. Good luck and keep me in the loop."

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Levon put down the phone. While he was going through the options Adams came in from his Lieutenant´s office.

"Lundy, we tried to take that helicopter pilot in for an interrogation. But the guy has vanished into thin air."

Levon silently cursed. This implied they had no way of knowing where Joe and his guard had been meant to be drop off. Though the two obviously hadn´t gotten there this would have given a starting point for the search.

"But if we don´t get anywhere at that end I´d say we best get on our way," Adams said, reaching for his jacket.

"Where to?" Levon followed his example.

"To the High Mountain Rangers. If there´s any chance left, they are the right people for the job."

Fifteen minutes later they entered the headquarters. The building was nothing special, but the office provided all means of modern communication.

Levon was introduced to all members of the team present. Matthew Hawkes and the Texan shook hands, gauging each other. Matt´s face was open and friendly, yet he could not hide his concern.

"Mr. Lundy, we were surprised by the fact that your partner from the HPD might be connected with the body we found. I hear the identity hasn´t been established yet?"

"Nope, but the guy´s outfit looked pretty much like the average mobster´s suit. I hope the system will come up with an ID on his prints."

"Do you have any idea if your partner would be…" Matt seemed reluctant to put the question into words. "… as inadequately equipped as the guy we found?"

Levon was well aware what Hawkes was implying. "Yeah, ´fraid so. My partner did not come here voluntarily and at his primary destination he left all his baggage behind, including his shoes."

Hawkes and his colleague Flowers exchanged glances. Then Hawkes stepped up to a table covered with maps. He leaned down and unfolded one of them. Flowers stepped beside him. Levon and Adams joined them too.

"What will you do now?" Levon asked.

Hawkes pointed at the map and picked up a list. "These are the cabins that are in use right now. We have been in contact with the occupants. Then we have a number of cabins which are not occupied at the moment, but which were only vacated shortly before the blizzard. I guess we can rule them out as well." He looked at the men standing around the table. They all nodded.

"There are a few cabins, however, that we need to check. Unfortunately they are quite widely scattered over a large terrain and that will take more time than we might actually have."

"How will you get to those places?" Levon asked.

"We have two helicopters but one is being repaired right now. If no other emergency arises we can use the one at hand. If not, our recourses are limited." Hawkes put the facts across quite matter-of-factly.

"Can´t the search be conducted by other means?"

Hawkes shook his head. "Not with the snow we have. The whole region has been practically rendered inaccessible by the blizzard."

"When will you start?" Levon was impatient to get going.

"I just have one more call to make," Matt answered. "Do you have anything warmer than this?" His gaze took in Levon´s attire, which wasn´t really adequate for the prevailing weather conditions right now.

"No, I just have this. I too thought I´d be headin´ for the desert climate of Las Vegas at best."

"Ok, if you want to join us then go with Izzy. He will give you something else."

"Thanks," Levon tipped his fingers at the brim of his hat. "Much obliged."

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The last call Matthew Hawkes had to place was one to his father Jesse Hawkes and his brother Cody in their cabin high up in the mountains. Matt explained about the search and what they were looking for.

"That is quite a large terrain you need to cover," Jesse Hawkes thoughtfully stated over the intercom.

"Yeah, that´s why I´m getting in touch with you. If you could get to some of the places near your cabin, then we could start out at the other end and we would still make better progress than if we went about it in the helicopter on our own."

Jesse Hawkes considered the suggestion of his oldest son. Matthew always had a good view of all the possibilities, he had to admit. He was really proud of his son, even though his wife had hoped that at least one of their boys would become a civil engineer. Well, maybe Cody…

"Ok, if Cody took the snow mobile he might be able to tick off some of the cabins on your list," Jesse conceded.

"Ok, that would be great," Matt agreed. "Tell him to get back to Robin if he comes across anything."

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The phone rang only twice before Michael LaFiamma picked it up. "Si?" He did not ask who was calling.

Neither did the caller ask who was answering. "It´s him."

"Who says so?"

"CPD confirmed that the prints belong to Paolo Morone, one of the thugs Barberi had in tow when he went to Las Vegas."

"Who else knows up to now?"

"No one, except you. I put the information on hold."

"And Joey?"

"Nothing yet."

"Ok."

Michael LaFiamma put down the phone. He knew what he had to do, or rather what he would have his men do. He did not feel any compassion for the man who would be executed at his command. But his lips formed a silent prayer for the young man who, though he was not his son, had a prominent place in his heart. The cold and calculating mob boss did not dare to think that his beloved nephew might be dead too, just like Morone. Joey couldn´t be dead. Because, if he was, how was Uncle Mickey supposed to tell his wife, Joey´s Aunt Teresa?

XIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXXIXIXIXIXIX

Cody Hawkes put on his somehow old fashioned attire. He looked a bit like a trapper. His brother Matt would have laughed. Of the two brothers Matt was the more technology oriented guy. But the question who was more adapted to the environment of the mountains was yet to be answered. Ok, Matt had for the sake of his job to make use of whatever means were provided nowadays. Cody stuck more to the traditional techniques he had acquired from his training by their father, the legendary Jesse Hawkes. The clear advantage of these means were that they never failed. They did not rely on modern facilities and thus they were independent. Just like those the Indians had used for over a thousand years.

Feeling completely at ease with his inhospitable surrounding Cody got on the snow mobile and was on his way.

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Levon felt sick. It wasn´t that he was afraid of flying. But being in a helicopter was something different than travelling on a plane. And the vast expanse of snowy mountainside, over which the aircraft hovered and swerved, did not really give his sense of balance something to anchor to. For him everything looked alike. He had always thought that he was used to finding his way around the wilderness, always had on trail rides. But this was something completely different.

For the last one and a half hours they had flown from one cabin to the next, descending and checking if the cabins were in fact empty. So far they had not been successful in their search. Levon was beginning to doubt if anyone could survive out here. Why had Joe´s guard turned up dead? Why had he left Joe alone? Perhaps Joe had died before him and guarding a dead body didn´t make any sense.

A call over his headset made him come out of his musings. He could hear Joanne´s voice, though far away and hardly audible over the noise of the aircraft.

"Levon, I had a call from the CPD. They found Barberi in the Chicago River, a bullet in his head."

Levon swallowed. Things seemed to be moving fast, as if those in the background knew more than any police official. "Did you speak to Joe´s uncle?"

"No, I don´t think it would be wise to do so now, not if I want to keep my job."

Levon knew what she meant. They might have used this unofficial source until now, but they could by no means do it any longer. He remembered that at the beginning of Joe´s assignment to Houston his uncle had refused to provide information to his nephew. From then on it had been an unvoiced understanding. It just wasn´t good for the two sides of the system to be too closely connected.

"How are you getting on?" Joanne´s voice came shouting over the intercom.

"Nothing so far. Keep your fingers crossed."

"Will do." Then she was gone.

XIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXXIXIXIXIXIX

It was near dusk when Cody came upon the cabin that seemed strangely well-equipped. He knew the cabin had only recently been taken over by a new proprietor. So maybe the new owner wanted the place to be more convenient.

Cody had peeked inside through one of the windows but to check more closely he tried the door. It wasn´t locked. Strange. With all the expensive stuff inside one would have expected that whoever owned the place would keep it locked up. Except… except he was expecting someone who didn´t have a key. Cody looked around the room. There was a satellite telephone, a lot of provisions in cans stacked on a shelf and more blankets than usual. Even a VCR with cassettes, like someone would stay here for a longer time and wanted to keep himself entertained.

He went outside again and walked around the cabin. At the back under a canvas cover he found a snow mobile and extra fuel for the device. Normally one would expect people to come here using the snow mobile and not having it here while they were away.

He headed back to his own vehicle and got hold of the mic of his intercom. He needed to speak to Robin.

She came on air immediately. They conferred about the location and she checked something on the computer. After a few minutes she got back to him.

"Cody, you were right. There is a new cabin, just newly built over the last few months, quite close to the place you´re now. As far as I can tell it isn´t in use yet. In the file is stated that it will only be occupied from next spring on."

"Ok, Robin, that must be the place, or at least I hope so. I will give it a try. Can you contact Matt?"

"Yeah, I´ll tell him. Do you think you can make it before dark?"

"I´ll try, I just have to, there´s a life at stake."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

It was getting dangerously dark already. Levon hadn´t stopped scanning the outside world below, but there was nothing except the vast white expanse of a snowy landscape.

He became aware that Matt was speaking to someone over his intercom. Then the ranger conversed with their pilot. The helicopter took a steep turn and totally changed its direction of flight, making Levon gasp as his stomach was painfully pressed against his ribs. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. How could he ever have enjoyed a roller coaster ride, he asked himself now.

For some time the helicopter went straight forward and then meandered over the terrain as if searching for something. Matt used the binoculars. Then he made a motion with his hand. Levon looked ahead.

Into the darkening night sky a flaring red signal rocket erupted and slowly painted a fiery track of light into the blackness.

"There!" Hawkes shouted. The helicopter aimed directly towards the signal. They rapidly approached the light but Levon couldn´t make out anything in particular. But the others seemed to have spotted their target. The aircraft halted in midair and now Levon could see a figure down there, frantically waving its arms.

They descended and the figure took shelter as they touched the ground. They jumped off the aircraft as the rotors slowed and halted, making communication possible at last.

Matt was greeted by a young man in somewhat old-fashioned trapper attire.

"Cody, this is Mr. Lundy from the Houston Police, Mr. Lundy, my brother Cody Hawkes. He said he found something or rather someone."

Levon felt his knees go weak. "Is it Joe?" At once the absurdity of the question hit him. How should this stranger know if whoever he had found was Joe?

"I only got here myself," Cody replied. "But through the window I could see the outline of a figure lying on the cabin floor. I couldn´t get in yet, the door is blocked by a snowdrift.

They turned towards the cabin door in unison, trudging through the deepening snow. The pilot turned back and brought a shovel out of the helicopter, then burrowed into the drift. A few minutes later the door was cleared and could be opened.

Matt had produced a torch and shone it around the room. Levon stepped inside behind him, anxiously trying to adjust his eyes to the dim interior. The place smelled strange, of smoke and kind of sweet, almost as if someone had been smoking pot here. But that was probably an illusion.

Then they saw it, the curled up figure under a white partly torn sack of sorts. Levon crouched down. It was a human being. Holding his breath he lifted the cloth and looked into Joe´s face. It was white, with hollow cheeks and dark rings under his closed eyes. But his mouth was almost smiling.

Levon reached for a pulse in his neck. He couldn´t feel anything. His hand started to tremble and despite the cold he suddenly felt sweat on his forehead.

Matt Hawkes kneeled down beside him, turning Joe over. He lowered his ear to Joe´s mouth and nose, then he also searched for a pulse. He nodded.

"Is he…?" Levon whispered, not trusting his own voice.

"…alive, but just barely," Matt confirmed.

Behind them Cody and the pilot were bringing in a stretcher. Cautiously they lifted Joe onto it and carried him to the helicopter, heaving him inside. Levon had felt strangely detached from the activity that was going on. As they carried Joe out, he reached down for the items on the cabin floor: a lighter, a half smoked cold cigarette and the photograph of a woman. He slipped them into his pocket. Then he stepped outside, closed the cabin door behind him and boarded the helicopter.

Within minutes they were airborne, and Levon looked back as Cody remained standing in front of the cabin, waving.

While the aircraft rapidly headed back to South Lake Tahoe the pilot gave the news to Robin and she informed the hospital of the imminent arrival of an emergency patient.

Matt had again checked Joe´s vitals and at once put him on an IV. Then he covered Joe with a special blanket. The High Mountain Rangers were just as well trained as paramedics to deal with medical emergencies. But when Levon tried to ask about Joe´s condition, the ranger shrugged. They would have to wait and see. For now they couldn´t do anything else.

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Levon was alone. The waiting room in the hospital was only dimly lit.

After the rangers had delivered Joe into the hands of the doctors they had quickly said goodbye. They were on duty and other issues demanded their attention.

Levon had called Joanne and Michael LaFiamma with the news. But though they were all relieved to a certain extent, none of them had felt the much longed for easing of anxiety.

Levon passed an hour just sitting there, waiting. The emotional turmoil had left him drained and numb. He tried not to think of what could or could not be. At last he closed his eyes and tried to memorize the calming words his grandmother Minnie used to say whenever he hadn´t been able to sleep as a child.

He started up when someone touched his shoulder. A woman in a white lab coat looked at him worriedly.

"Mr. Lundy?"

"Yeah." Levon rubbed his eyes. She sat down on the chair beside him. There were no other people in the waiting room.

For a moment the woman tried to sort the words in her mind. "I´m Dr. Mariner."

The pause and her behavior made Levon expect the worst, he could hardly refrain from jumping up. "How is he?" he finally said with a hoarse voice.

"Mr. LaFiamma is very poor, I don´t want to give you any false hope." Her eyes were very sincere. "But on the other hand he is young and strong and he might have a chance after all."

Levon nodded. "What´s wrong with him, is it because of the exposure to the cold?"

"He sustained a fracture of the collarbone and was heavily beaten. But those injuries are minor. What worries us is the severe Pyelitis…"

"The what?" Levon had never heard that diagnosis before.

"That´s a severe infection of the kidneys, the bladder and the adjacent abdominal area. It goes along with very high fever and tremendous pain. It can, if it is not treated, cause failure of the kidneys and death. We believe that in Mr. LaFiamma´s case the fever was cushioned by the hyperthermia he suffered at the same time. But he is also severely dehydrated. We put him on a high dose of antibiotics, potent painkillers and we are pumping lots of fluid into his body." The doc was more businesslike now. Perhaps her patient´s fate had touched her more than she cared to let on.

"So you haven´t given up on him, have you?" Levon was grabbing for a lifeline.

"No, we won´t. We do everything possible to keep him alive." She paused. "The next twenty-four hours will be crucial."

"Can I see him?"

"Well, we took him to the ICU and you´re not next of kin…"

"He´s got no one here and to me he is next of kin…"

The doctor got up. "Ok, perhaps it will help him to have someone with him." She led the way and Levon followed her through a few doors and down a corridor to the ICU.

In the cubicle Levon could hardly see Joe under all the wires, drips and the oxygen mask. The monitor was reflecting Joe´s heartbeat in the form of frail beeps and the rhythm was disturbingly jumpy. The doc pointed at a chair and Levon sat down.

"Talk to him as much as possible. Perhaps he can hear you. We´ll see how things are in the morning."

"Thanks, doc."

Every now and again a nurse came in, checked something, hung up a new bag of fluid on the IV stand. The doctor returned as well several times during the night.

To talk to Joe was difficult. Levon felt awkward about it at first. He couldn´t think of a subject. Then, at last, he started to talk about their cases, just babbling away about every damn case they had solved or not solved during the last year. After a while he realized how frustrating it was to talk without getting a response. He had always thought that Joe´s habit to retort was unnerving. But now it seemed to be just the opposite. The lack of their usual banter and by now good natured verbal battles was much more annoying. And whenever a nurse or doctor passed by or entered the room, Levon stopped his barrage of words in embarrassment.

Levon felt helpless and useless. He ran his hands desperately through his hair. He walked the few steps from one end of the cubicle to the other. He sat back down and buried his face in his hands. Then he lay his head on his folded arms and closed his eyes. Sometime in the early morning hours he finally fell asleep in his chair beside Joe´s bed.

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It was again the doctor´s hand that woke him. But this time the doctor was a man.

"Mr. Lundy, don´t you want to go to the cafeteria for a coffee?"

"What? How is he?" Levon started up.

"We think Mr. LaFiamma is a bit better. His vitals are steadier." The doc sounded confident.

Levon got up and stepped up to the bed. He couldn´t see any difference in Joe´s face. But somehow even as a layman he could detect that the beeps of the monitor were no longer jumpy.

"We will put him on a dialysis session now, that should help his kidneys to recover and heal." While the doc spoke a nurse came in with a large machine in tow. It looked intimidating.

"I don´t really want to leave, I want to be here when he wakes up," Levon objected.

"It´s still a bit too early for that, I can assure you that you won´t miss anything if you go for breakfast."

Levon nodded.

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Before he went to have breakfast Levon called Joe´s family. His uncle was relieved to hear that Joe was slightly better.

"I´d like to come down there, but right now I can´t get away," Michael LaFiamma said thoughtfully.

The reorganization of his own business and its merger with the Disanto branch was too important to allow him to go away and see his nephew. The mob boss also had to take care at this stage that no rival would try to reach for the position he was about to take over as head of the two family businesses. The abduction and extortion had shown once again the dangers of becoming careless.

Levon had his own reservations about Uncle Mikey´s reluctance to leave Chicago right now. He would have hoped that Joe´s life and wellbeing were more important to the man than his criminal dealings.

"Will you let me know when anything new comes up, when Joey wakes up?" The mob boss sounded almost contrite.

"Yeah, I will," Levon conceded reluctantly.

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The dialysis left Joe unchanged at least as far as Levon could tell. But the doc said that it had helped. So Levon decided to think positive. The food had helped him to feel better and he had retaken his place at Joe´s bedside. No matter how long the wait, Levon was determined to stay at his partner´s side.

In the afternoon Joe started to toss and turn on the bed and the doc decided to tie his wrists so that Joe could not rip out the IV. Levon did not like it but he knew it was only for Joe´s good. The doc checked on Joe frequently and nodded. Finally life seemed to be looking up again.

Joe´s fever wasn´t as high as before but it was still high enough to cloud his perception. It was almost evening before he slowly came to. He turned his head from one side to the other and mumbled unintelligibly for a while and his eyelids flickered. All this time Levon´s gaze was glued to Joe´s face.

At last Joe´s eyed opened and started to scan his surroundings. They fell on Levon´s face, took it in and continued to wander around the room. Then Joe´s gaze returned to Levon´s face and came to a halt looking directly at him.

Joe´s lips moved, trying to form words, words that where at first unintelligible. Then at last Joe started to speak.

"Why are _you_ dead, Levon?" Joe´s voice was croaking, hardly understandable.

The sentence gave a clear indication that Joe was delirious with the fever and thought he was dead too.

Levon took Joe´s hand and squeezed it. "Joe, you are not dead."

Joe blinked and seemed confused.

"Joe, we are not dead," Levon repeated. He loosened the restraint around Joe´s wrist and held Joe´s hand firmly in his. "You´re gonna be fine."

All of a sudden Joe´s gaze grew more focused. "Where is Jules?"

Levon sat up straight. What should he tell Joe?

At last Levon dared to utter the words. "I don´t know where Julia is." He wasn´t sure if the words registered.

Joe closed his eyes and Levon suspected that his partner had fallen asleep again. But after a while Joe mumbled: "Jules, Jules," his unrestrained hand trying to reach out for some imaginary object.

Levon realized that the female doctor was standing behind him and he looked up at her. She nodded encouragingly.

After a while it became evident that Joe had nodded off again.

The doctor cautiously got hold of Joe´s wrist and checked his pulse. She smiled. "He´s going to be alright." She picked up the chart and wrote something down.

Levon sighed. He felt so relieved that Joe had come around again that he covered his face with his hands and cried.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The dark haired woman turned her face towards the salty breeze. She felt good, she felt alive.

All her life she had feared being without the people she had grown up with. Now she was alone and she realized that she need not be afraid. She hadn´t been here for long but it already felt a bit like home, a new home, but a home nonetheless.

Her first days on the new job had been reassuring. She could do it, she could handle her own life. The knowledge that she was able to earn her own living gave her a confidence she had never felt before.

As she watched the sun setting in the west her thoughts travelled far, far to the love she had left behind. The pain of losing that one man all over again had been almost too much. But it had also taught her to feel again after being dead inside for so many years.

XIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXXIXIXIXIXIX

"Do I really have to stay here on my own?" Two days later Joe sat propped up against the backrest of his bed, his lower lip pouting, his eyes still a bit shiny with the lessening fever.

"Well, you´re not alone here, lots of nice nurses to take care of you." Levon tried to be light about the subject. He could see how depressed Joe was, yet he did not quite know why.

"But couldn´t you take me with you?" Joe tried again.

"No way, you are still way too sick. And when you are better, the docs want to do some surgery on your collarbone. It´s been out of place for too long, they say it won´t heal properly without the surgery."

Joe reclined, rolled his eyes and closed them with a deep sigh.

Levon studied his partner´s face. Joe still looked very pale and his cheeks were hollow. It would need a good deal of time to get the Italian back on his feet.

Levon needed to go back to Houston. He couldn´t stay away from the job any longer.

"Did you find out what happened to Julia?" Joe asked out of the blue. Neither of them had mentioned the woman who had been the reason for Joe´s journey and the subsequent events.

Levon shook his head. He was afraid of telling his partner that he suspected the woman to be dead, pumped off by one of Barberi´s thugs. But unlike Joe, Levon did not know that Julia had prepared her escape for a long time.

Yet there was one thing Levon still had to do. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the picture he had found on the cabin floor beside his unconscious partner. He handed it to Joe.

"Oh." Joe took it and looked at it with big eyes. "I thought…I…" he swallowed, a pained expression on his face.

"What did you think?"

"I thought she had really been there but I guess I must have been fantasizing." Joe turned the picture over.

Levon had read the words on the back but hadn´t been able to understand them. Though he knew it was an intimate message he couldn´t refrain from asking: "What does it mean?"

"Dio sol sa?"

"Yeah."

"Only God knows," Joe said in a voice hardly more than a whisper. When his eyes met Levon´s they were shiny with unshed tears.

In his pocket Levon was fingering the remains of the joint. He wanted to change the subject to one less painful for Joe. "I found a stump of a joint beside you in that cabin. It smelled of pot. Where did you get that?"

"Paolo gave it to me. He gave me three in fact. That must have been the last one. I wonder what became of the guy."

"He died in the blizzard. Why was he out there anyway?"

"He wanted to get help." Joe´s thoughts wandered back to the day they had parted. "First I thought he was the lucky one. I don´t know if I had survived without the pot. It was really generous of him to share it with me." For a moment he fell silent. "He wasn´t all bad, you know? He even reminded me of myself. He was just a guy who, at some point, made a different decision and paid a different price." Joe wondered who had paid the higher price? Had it really been worth it throwing away his one true love just to stay on the right side of the law?

As if to shake the thought he suddenly said: "I wished I had one of those joints right now."

"Joe!" Levon scrutinized his partner´s face. He knew Joe had never been a smoker. How much Marihuana did it take to establish a dependency?

Levon got up. "I gotta go, that plane won´t wait. You take care and get better, yah hear? I´ll come fetch you in about two weeks." He patted his partner´s shoulder.

Joe looked up and his eyes were profoundly sad. "Thanks, Levon, for coming after me."

Levon tipped the rim of his hat with his fingers. "My pleasure!" Then he was gone.

 **t.b.c.**

There is a sequel available now with the title _**Out Of Touch**_

Author´s note:

The initial idea for this story popped up in my head when I listened to the song _Who wants to live forever_ by Queen. The lyrics, which I could not use for copyright reasons and which I replaced by my own poem at the beginning of the story, describe a love story of truly tragic dimensions.

When I was in the process of writing I remembered my vacation in Tuscany, Italy. I stayed at a historic rural farm transformed into a charming holiday apartment complex – the Podere Campalfi – deep in the woods near the ancient city of Siena. On a walk along the river Merse I came across the tiny castle Balzetti, also known as the castle only God knows – il Castiglion che Dio Sol Sa. It is indeed situated in total isolation and can only be approached on foot. It was first mentioned in the year 1262.

The castle and especially its name has ever since fascinated me and I think, as it is Italian just like Joey´s ancestry, it is a perfect feature to use in the love story.

If you have enjoyed my writing I would very much like to hear from you, where ever you are out there in the Houston Kights´ Universe. Reviews would also be highly appreciated.


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